


Truth Laid Bare

by Blacksky92



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Depression, Diary/Journal, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, History of Severus Snape, Humiliation, Loneliness, M/M, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Past Abuse, Past Torture, Suicidal Thoughts, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2019-09-14 03:37:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 19
Words: 28,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16905384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blacksky92/pseuds/Blacksky92
Summary: What happens when Harry discovers a diary in the back of an old potions book? The same book he found in the potion's classroom cupboard? He soon learns far more than he ever imagined about his most despised Professor.





	1. Chapter 1

“Detention Mr Potter!” Snape growled from behind the safety of his desk at the front of the classroom. 

Great. 

What had he done this time? 

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he packed up his books and quill before stuffing them into his bag. He always hated getting singled out in class, especially when it was in front of everyone by the one person he hated more than any other. Professor Snape had always pertained a deep, verging on irrational dislike for him but lately it seemed to be growing worse. 

Harry suspected he knew why. 

The professor had just started teaching the topic of his dreams, Harry had no doubt he knew the subject through and through, but why would Dumbledore pick an ex deatheater to teach students about the Dark Arts? It was a puzzle that Harry didn’t have time to figure out as Snape’s condescending eyes lingered on his form. Though, it was one set of many. Harry dared not turn around as he could practically taste the essence of smug that lingered on Draco’s lips. He wouldn't dare give the blonde wizard the satisfaction of knowing he was aware of it. 

“Class dismissed.” Snape drawled, as if disappointed to see the subject of his torture disseminate from within the the classroom walls. At least that’s how it appeared to Harry as he threw the strap of his bag over his shoulder. He felt the heat of Snape’s eyes dissipate for a mere moment, prompting the young wizard to investigate. He dared to look up, only to realize the professor’s eyes were locked with another, his lips tainted with venom as he smirked at one wizard and one wizard only. 

Draco Malfoy. 

The sight turned Harry’s stomach as he fled from the room. Great, now he had another reason to hate defense against the Dark Arts, as if he actually needed another one.  

Harry reached into the pocket of his robes as he strode down the dark corridor, his fingers desperately searching the small cavity for his class timetable. The truth was he should know it off by heart by now, only he didn’t. Part of him was reluctant to view the folded up piece of parchment as he suspected today was the dreaded day. Defense against the Dark Arts followed by Potions. He didn’t dread potions as much as he once did now that Slughorn was taking the class, though that in turn gave birth to another kind of pressure, the pressure to stay at the top of the class. It was a title he was never after in the first place, but thanks to that old book in the cupboard, and the half blood prince, he had now inherited it. 

“Ah, Harry my boy!” It was a voice he was only too familiar with as he turned around to greet the man.

“Professor Dumbledore.” The dark haired wizard offered the Headmaster a smile as he tried to determine the underlying reason the man had chosen this moment to speak with him.

“Harry, I though we might have a word.”

“Of course, Headmaster.” 

“Follow me to my office.”

Harry nodded without hesitation, allowing a deep breath to consume his lungs as he followed the elderly wizard towards a room he was only all too familiar with. 

“Take a seat Harry.” Dumbledore waved his hand toward a vacant couch, it was an offer the boy wouldn’t dare refuse as he sat awkwardly in the middle of it. Albus smiled, collecting a bowl of Licorice snaps in his fingers before holding them out towards the young wizard.

“I’m fine thank you.”

“Very well, I might as well get to the crux of why I brought you here today Harry.” Dumbledore sighed as if he were about to deliver a euluge. 

The man’s actions only made Harry more apprehensive as he awaiting the wizard’s words.

“I’m going on a little adventure tonight and I wondered if you might join me tonight dear Potter.”

“I can’t professor, you see I have detention with Professor Snape.”

“Detention? Oh dear, that does surprise me, I do hope you are behaving yourself Harry.”

“To be honest sir, I don’t exactly know what it is for, maybe he’s getting a head start and it’s for something I haven’t done yet.”

Albus offered the boy a smile but said nothing more as he rose to his feet before pacing towards his window. 

“He hasn’t inherited an easy life you know.”

Harry opened his mouth, but words refused to be summoned as he waited for Dumbledore to elaborate, only he didn’t. Silence lingered about the room, slowly growing thicker before finally becoming suffocating.

“Why does he hate me so much?” Harry severed it, his words a knife against the thick air.

“Because you remind him of everything he could have had, and you are the promise that he will never have it.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“One day you will. Perhaps that old potions book can teach you more than potions.” Dumbledore winked, his eyes proving to Harry that this the most information he would get out of the Headmaster. 

He was on his own now.

*~*~*

 

Harry felt the thick, familiar smoke of potions class compile in his nostrils. The dark, dank classroom didn’t exactly help matters in the slightest. The noise of wooden spoons colliding with cauldrons, knives slicing through whatever was on the recipe board today, Hermione’s heavy breathing all collided in his head. He felt as though it were about to explode. These were all sounds he should have grown accustomed to these five and a half years at Hogwarts, yet today they were only getting under his skin.

“Aren’t you going to open you book? You can’t exactly follow the recipe when your just staring at the cover you know.” Ron snuck up behind his best friend, causing the dark haired wizard to jump in surprise. 

“Sorry mate, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Ron’s smile faded into concern as his young features became marred with creases.

“You alright?” The red haired wizard narrowed his eyes on his best friend, suddenly doubting the state of him.

“Yeah, fine.” Harry lied before quickly shoving the book open as if nothing were wrong. 

Ron continued to stare at him, his eyes combined with his jaw hanging open proving he wasn’t at all convinced.  

Ron was right and he knew it, but ever since Dumbledore had alluded to the books potential secrets, he had been both curious and a little bit afraid.

  
  


*~*~*

 

Curiosity got the better of Harry as he sat up on his bed. Everyone else in his dorm had long fallen asleep. This was the moment he had been waiting for, this was the time he craved the most. He was on his own now, he had time to think without interruption as he clutched his dated potions book with in his grasp. Harry pulled the cover over his head before collecting his wand from the nightstand.

“Lumos.”

Harry’s heart pounded as he ran the tip of his wand over the faded cover.

What secrets did it hold? Why had Dumbledore brought it up when they had been discussing Snape? How did the Headmaster even know he had the book? Then again, this was Dumbledore, he knew just about everything. 

Harry peeled back the cover, an act he had done many times before, only this time he wasn’t after the recipes. He was after something else, only what? Harry turned page after page, his heart began to pound as he approached the back of the book. There was still nothing. Could Dumbledore have been wrong?

He ran the glowing tip of his wand over the most valuable set of words for this particular task: _This book is the property of the half blood Prince._  

Perhaps he should try an old trick Snape himself had used? 

“Reveal your secrets.” Harry whispered, expecting nothing to happen yet praying desperately that it would. 

Harry’s jaw dropped as the pages before him began to multiply, each page falling flawlessly into the next. He sat there mesmerized as delicate inscription rivaling that of a princess began to take shape on the pages before him. Could this really be what Dumbledore was referring to?

Harry’s jaw hung open as dates and times began to mark the top of various pages.

Could this be... Snape’s Diary?


	2. Chapter 2

_ 31st August 1971 _

 

_ So here I am writing the manuscript to a story no one will ever read. A slight chill has begun in the air which would only prove to be a problem if I was forced to spend another night outside. Tomorrow I catch the train to Hogwarts. I would be lying if I said the idea didn’t terrify me, yet excite me beyond words. Anywhere was better than being stuck in that miserable house with my swine of a father. He will head out to work just after 7, from then on it will be safe to head home. head home then and help mother with dinner. Until then, I will wait out here, inside the gutted out base of a willow tree, brewing an experimental potion derived from a copy of ‘Advanced Potion Making’. This one was proving slightly more difficult than the others but I need the remedy to stop the bleeding.  _

 

*~*~*

  
  


“Hey Harry, what happened to your potions book? Why is it so thick? I’m sure it wasn’t like this yesterday.” The voice sounded familiar as it wafted into his ear. Had he actually fallen asleep? Harry’s eyes sprung open before searching for the origin of Ron’s voice. They instantly fell upon his red haired best friend and the precious diary that lingered within his grasp.

“N-nothing!” The dark haired wizard gasped before instinctively snatching the book from Ron’s fingers. He knew there was no way his best friend would believe him now as he refused to meet what was guaranteed to be confused eyes.

“Hey are you alright Harry? You seem a bit agitated.” Ron leaned forward, as if doing so would invite the truth to spill from his friend’s lips.

“Yeah, just didn’t sleep much is all.” Harry muttered, turning his gaze towards the bundle of blankets at the end of his bed.

“If you say so.” Ron eyed his friend dubiously as he pulled off his pajama top before yanking on a clean shirt.

“Anyway come, lets get some breakfast?”

“Yeah, sounds good.” Harry nodded before tearing himself out of bed.

 

*~*~*

  
  


Harry traipsed behind Ron and Hermione, his attempts to keep his thoughts in the present were proving difficult. Had Snape had an abusive home life? It sure seemed that way. Why else would he have avoided going home? He guessed it explained a lot about the man’s personality, or rather lack of it.

Harry sat down at the dining table, plates of endless food were laid out before him, though today his appetite refused to pay him a visit. He found himself resisting the urge to glance towards a certain seat, one that the Defense against the Dark Arts teacher consistently resided in.

“What’s the matter Harry? Your very quiet today.” Hermione stated factually as she sat up straight on her bench, not bothering to face her best friend as she reached for a spoonful of scrambled eggs.

“Just tired.” Harry lied as his eyes turned to the bag nestled at his feet. Within its constraints lied the potions book he was so dying to read. What had Snape meant by stopping the ‘bleeding’? If he was bleeding, wouldn’t he just go to the hospital? 

But what if his family couldn’t afford it? 

Or perhaps he was too embarrassed to go? But what would cause him to be like that?  

He could no longer stand the suspense as he leaned forward before retrieving his bag from under the table and placing it on the bench next to him. He carefully slid the thick potions book from the bag before placing it on his lap. He kept the book hidden under the table, praying no one would be curious enough to ask him about it. 

  
  
  


_ 2nd September 1971 _

 

_ Today was about what I expected, I met a new acquaintance on the train, Lucius Malfoy. I suppose he’s my friend, or perhaps just doing his job as a school prefect. I suspect he plans to use me as a pawn for his own game, though I can't figure out exactly what he has in mind yet. Perhaps I’m just being a bit paranoid? Either way he’s the only person here who bothers to talk to me, besides Lily and the professor’s of course.   _

_ It is somewhat chilly here in the dungeons, though I suppose that’s what I get for being in Slytherin House. I shouldn’t be so ungrateful, at least being here means that I don’t have to reside in perpetual fear of my father’s fists or his nightly visits for that matter. _

  
  
  


“Nightly visits?” Harry mumbled aloud as if not realizing the words had actually left his lips. 

“What was that?” Ron raised an eyebrow as he leaned in closer to his friend. 

“N-nothing.” Harry muttered as he watched pieces of egg fall from Ron’s lips, though he didn’t show any sign that he even realized.

“Come Harry, we have to go.” Hermione summoned the wizard’s attention as she rose from her seat.

“Huh?” The dark haired wizard darted back to the pages of his book before slamming it shut. He wasted no time slipping it back into his bag before following in Hermione’s footsteps.

“What’s our first class today?”

“Divination.” Hermione answered promptly as she led the way from the dining hall. 

Good, divination would prove the perfect opportunity to continue reading this diary. 

  
  
*~*~*  
  
  
  


“Welcome all to another riveting class of divination.” Miss Trelawney stood hunched over before the class. Harry had yet to experience a ‘riveting’ divination's class. Though today could be different as he made sure to sit with his back against a wall. 

He hastily yanked his divination book out and winced as it collided with desk at an unanticipated velocity. It was an act that caught the attention of everyone in the surrounding area

"Sorry." Harry muttered, though he doubted anyone had heard. He waited until the professor has summoned the classes attention before pulling out the potions book once more. He sat the object on his lap before flipping forward to the page he was up to.

“What are you reading? It’s not like you to read.”  Hermione eyed the dark haired wizard suspiciously, her keen eyes never seemed to miss a beat.

“It’s nothing.” Harry whispered, waving Hermione off with a faint wave of his hand.

“It’s clearly not nothing.” Hermione muttered back before returning her attention to the professor. Harry sat frozen for a moment before realizing the witch wasn’t going to pursue the matter. The young wizard felt relief flood his system as he turned back to the pages in his lap.

  
  
  


_ 5th September 1971 _

 

_ Lucius Malfoy invited me to some kind of party on Saturday night, I don’t especially feel like going. I’d rather stay here brewing potions in the bathroom. At least going to this party would get him off the school grounds and therefore, away from James and his gang of misfits. My body seethes at the mere thought of those four. Now Lily was spending more time with them and less with me. It doesn’t help the matter that they are all in Gryffindor House, while I’m stuck at what seems like the other end of the scale. Bottom of the barrel, forever drawing the short straw until I finally get to kick the cauldron.   _

  
  


“And what do you think Harry dear?” 

“Huh?” Harry looked up at professor Trelawney before realising the eyes of the entire class were on him. 

“It’s the symbol of good fortune.” Hermione whispered to her best friend, shielding her face from the professor before rolling her eyes. It was obvious to everyone the Harry had not been paying attention, nor was he likely to until he had finished reading that bloody book.

“It’s the symbol of good fortune.” Harry repeated Hermione's words, though lacking the distinct confidence that seemed to reside in her every answer. 

“Very good Harry! That's ten points for Gryffindor!”  

“Thanks.” Harry offered Hermione a smile before closing the book with his palms.

“Don’t mention it.”

  
  


*~*~*~

  
  


Harry crept up the stairs of Gryffindor tower, everyone else had gone to dinner but his appetite was still evading him. Though he knew why. He reached into his bag before withdrawing the potions book. He paced into his dormitory room before discarding his bag at the foot of his bed. He climbed onto his usual window sill as his eyes ran over the valley beneath. These were the same grounds his father had stomped all those years ago. He doubted much had changed as he drew open the book once more. 

“I see your finding it quite the interesting read. Well it must be if you have elected to forego dinner for it.”

“Dumbledore? I didn’t see you-” Harry cut himself off as he realized the idiocy of his statement. 

“There is another, more interactive way to read it you know.”

Harry looked up at the Headmaster, confusion reigned in his eyes as he eagerly awaited the old wizards words.

“Oh yes, though I wouldn’t suggest using this technique in class.” Dumbledore served the young wizard a wink, it was a gesture that said more than words ever could. 

“What is it?” Harry leaned forward, the desperation was apparent in his voice. It was as if he were afraid Dumbledore would vanish in a puff of smoke before he seized the chance to learn this desirable technique.  

“It will take you into the book, much like Tom Riddle’s diary did.”


	3. Chapter 3

Harry trailed the tip of his wand over the next entry, just as Dumbledore had told him. The elderly wizard had long since left, though Harry did wonder what exactly Dumbledore thought he could get out of entering the diary directly.

 

_ 11th September 1971 _

 

A bright white light began to emanate from the centerfold of the book. It extended out until it encompassed the entire dormitory. Harry winced as his eyes struggled to adjust to the relentless assault. It carried on, until his entire awareness was shrouded with light. Harry finally closed his eyes, he felt as though his entire body were being sucked into a vacuum cleaner. The sensation seemed to go on forever, like being trapped in a falling elevator before finally ceasing. The lightness began to fade from around his eyes, giving birth to what seemed to be pure darkness.

He darted his eyes around his new setting, he was standing before wrought iron gates. The solid structure was barring him from entering what appeared to be a huge manor. 

Where on Earth was he? 

This place didn’t seem familiar to him at all. His eyes ran over the setting before falling upon a set of disturbing, engraved words.

Malfoy Manor.

Harry scanned the scene more carefully this time, his eyes making out the faint outline of a person. Their dark hair seemed to be at one with the night sky. Their large nose, deep, dark eyes. The resemblance was unmistakable. 

This was him, this was Severus Snape.

Harry parted his lips to say something but was interrupted by an abrupt creaking.

“So you made it after all.” 

That voice seemed familiar, but where had he heard it before? Harry decided to cease the guessing game in his head and just turn around. He gasped as his eyes fell on a man he’d be happy if he never saw again. He was the same, even then. His long blonde hair trailed down his back, accompanied in full with the all too familiar condescending gaze. 

He truly despised this man

“Lucius.” 

“Come with me.” Lucius summoned Severus to follow him, the young teenager hesitated before trailing after the blonde wizard. 

“Where are we going?” Severus whispered as he followed his host through the wrought iron gate.

“You’ll soon see.”

Harry couldn’t help but notice the dead ivy that laced the walls of the rather Gothic mansion. He felt as though he had entered a graveyard until he followed Snape through the front door. 

A horde of guests had conquered the large, otherwise empty space before him. Some were distinguishable, some he had never seen before.

“Come, this way.” The blonde wizard nodded toward a long, ornate staircase that lead to what appeared to be a series of bedrooms.

Harry instinctively followed the pair as they ascended the dark stairway. 

“In here.” Lucius commanded, his voice suddenly becoming demanding, almost desperate as he forced open the wooden doorway.

Snape obey as he entered a large bedroom, though to who it belonged to, he couldn’t tell. The door clicked shut, Snape instinctively turned toward it, his heart pounding as his only way out became suddenly unusable.

“Don’t look so frightened there Severus.” Lucius cooed as he paced tauntingly towards the young teenager.

“This won’t take long.” A smirk formed on the man’s lips as he grabbed Snape by the arm.

Harry’s mouth fell open as he watched Lucius shove Snape against the bedroom wall.

“Now, do as your told and this will hardly hurt one bit, do you understand?”

Harry narrowed his eyes as he tried to figure out what exactly was about to take place.

“What are you-” Severus whimpered, his voice resembling that of a frightened child.

“I think you know Severus. You will also know that if you refuse me, I will make sure that life at Hogwarts only gets worse for you.”

Snape’s body began to shake as Lucius slid his fingers over the boy’s belt buckle. 

Harry watched in horror as Lucius forced Snape's trousers down around his ankles, Snape struggled against the action but he knew it was no use.

“N-no!” Harry yelled, as if his actions would change the course of a memory that had already taken place. He stammered forward before lurching toward the blonde haired wizard. 

“Leave him alone!” Harry growled as he thrusted his hand toward Lucius’s shoulder. It was his goal to yank him away from Snape, except his fingers fell right through the form before him. Harry gasped, it served to remind him that certain events are forever carved into stone. 

His heart pounded, fuelled by rage as he watched Lucius spit into his right hand, while undoing his own trousers with his left. He slid the saliva over his cock before thrusting his arm hard against Snape’s back. The act held the younger boy in place, preventing him from moving too much.

Harry gasped as Lucius shoved his cock into Snape’s opening without hesitation. The younger wizard released a scream before having them stifled by a hand over his lips. 

“Your not as tight as I anticipated. Disappointing really.” Lucius chuckled as he continued his assault without what appeared to be much thought.

Snape gritted his teeth as he pushed his face into the elbow of his arm. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to cry out in a sordid mixture of pain and sorrow but it would be to no avail.    

“Is this your first time? You seem rather placid if it is. I’m in half a mind to tear your body apart.”

Snape’s body instinctively flinched at the comment. Harry glanced away, the scene before him was proving more difficult to watch than he could have ever imagined. No matter how much he despised Snape, he couldn’t stand to see him like this.

“That’s better.” Lucius chuckled before continuing to thrust his way inside Snape’s torn opening.

“S-stop it.” Severus whimpered as he fought back his tears.

“Finally some resistance from you, or are you just putting some up so you don’t feel like such a slut.” Lucius spat as he leaned in closer to the boy’s ear.

Snape groaned, a noise generated out of sheer frustration.

“Your lucky anyone at all will have you. I thought you’d be a little more grateful.” Lucius shook his head before thrusting his cock in one final time. Only this time, making a point to drive it in as far as the constraints of the boy’s body would allow.

“I-I’ll tell on you.” Snape whispered his threat, his throat raspy as the blonde wizard pulled away from him. 

“You can’t be serious now Severus? Who would believe a pathetic little first year over a school prefect?” 

Harry gritted his teeth, the rage was ignited in his heart as he watched Lucius shove his cock back into his trousers before turning for the door. 

“Don’t forget to clean yourself up, we wouldn’t want blood, or cum for that matter on the carpet now, would we?”

Harry watched in shock as Lucius waltzed from the room as if nothing had happened. The scene infuriated Harry as he turned back to Snape. The boy was now on his knees, facing the same wall he had just been raped against. His body began to shake violently as sobs escaped the lips of the first year student.  

Harry stepped toward the vulnerable younger version of his Defense against the Dark Art’s teacher. He never could have imagined him like this, never in his lifetime.

Harry felt his body succumb to the familiar sensation once more. He was aware he was being dragged back to the present, only he wasn’t ready to leave yet. He had to make sure Snape was okay. He knew it was a memory, the boy wouldn’t even be aware of his presence, yet he still felt compelled to at least try. Harry lurched forward, reaching out to the vulnerable boy, as if grabbing him would make everything better.   

His fingers never made their target as a shroud of light encased him, consuming him, blinding him. He felt as though he were being dragged through a tight tunnel before feeling himself collide with something soft. He opened his eyes, only catching the last of the remaining light. The potions book fell to the stone floor on the other side of the dormitory. Harry sat up on his bed, unable to believe what he had just witnessed as his eyes locked onto the diary. 

A sense of anger washed over him. The events had seemed so real it was as though they were happening to him. How dare Lucius Malfoy think it’s okay to treat someone in that way? 

The sound of footsteps entwined with voices snapped him from his thoughts. The noise seemed to grow louder as whoever it was ascended the staircase. Harry quickly jumped to his feet, he couldn’t afford for anyone to find this book now. He instinctively dove toward the diary, collecting it from the cold floor before shoving it under his pillow.  

“Harry?” Neville began, as if not expecting anyone to be in the room.

“Neville.” Harry nodded toward his bed space partner, though the unease was apparent in his voice as he hovered suspiciously over his bed. 

“Are you alright? I didn’t see you at dinner.”

“Fine.” Harry offered the boy a forced smile, as if doing so would convince him that his words were indeed true. 

“If you say so.”

  
*~*~*

 

Harry sat by the shores of the great lake. He needed time to process what he had witnessed. He needed to be away from everyone else and this seemed like the only place he could achieve that. His copy of Advanced Potion Making rested on a pebble next to his feet. He hadn’t been able to open it again, yet a part of him was more curious about the history of his most hated professor than ever. The man’s past seemed so disturbing, yet it still intrigued him to no end. Were these negative experiences really what shaped the wizard into what he is today? If so, then it was hardly surprising he is so vindictive and resentful.

“Harry! I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” Hagrid smiled before traipsing across the wet grass towards his young friend.

“H-Hagrid.”

“Why aren’t you with all your friends Harry?”

“Did you know Professor Snape when he was a student at Hogwarts?” Harry stated, completely bypassing the giant’s question. 

“Snape? Why are ya askin’ about him now?”

“No reason.” Harry lied, not entirely sure what he had expected to get out of his question.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry remained by the great lake, claiming the same rock he had occupied all afternoon. He gazed up at the sky, watching as the sun faded to black over the forbidden forest. He knew he would have to be getting back to the castle soon but he was struggling to ignite the fire within. He felt so removed, so disjointed from his teachers, his friends, his own sense of reality. It was as though he was caught between two lives, half his own, half someone else’s. He knew who the someone else was and it was someone he never expected to bond with. He had Snape’s diary next to his feet all afternoon, yet couldn’t summon the strength to open it. The last entry had shaken him to the core. Everyone knew Lucius was rotten beyond limit, but he never suspected him capable of such an act of violence.  

“Come now Harry, you’ve been out here all afternoon.” Hagrid’s voice pierced the outward silence, quieting the chaos surmounting Harry’s heart. The giant stood behind the young wizard, carrying within his grasp, two enormous pales of flesh eating slug repellent.

“How was the forbidden forest?” 

“Don’t try to change the subject now Harry. Come on, let’s get you some dinner.”

Harry knew Hagrid was right as he collected his potions book from the rocks at his feet before drawing himself upwards. Hagrid could tell something was wrong and Harry knew it too, yet neither one said anything. 

The two chose instead to climb the mud strewn hill in silence. 

 

*~*~*

 

Harry had been anticipating this moment with great apprehension. This would be his first Defense Against the Dark Arts class since he first started reading Snape’s diary. He instinctively headed towards his usual seat, his eyes darted around the room, soon concluding that the Professor had yet to arrive. He allowed his body to fall into his seat as the bright morning sunlight shone through the window. 

He now sat there, awaiting the professors arrival. 

They all were.

“Where were you yesterday Harry? I’ve been trying to find you!” Hermione worked herself into a flustered heap, causing all the attention of the students to be centred around her.

“S-sory Hermione, I just needed some space to think.”

“Think about what exactly Harry?” Hermione darted the boy an intense glare, making Harry suddenly feel like he was in an interrogation of sorts.

“I’ll tell you later.” He whispered, tossing his eyes around the room, hoping she would get the message, yet also hoping she would later forget.

Hermione simply nodded before sliding onto the bench next to her best friend. Harry glanced at his watch, he still had ten minutes before class was due to start. He suddenly felt compelled to read the next chapter, only it would prove too risky to do it now. What if Snape stormed in and caught him reading the frighteningly personal record of his disturbing childhood. 

No. 

He would just have to be patient.

“Turn to page 724.” 

Harry flinched as Snape’s voice resounded through the classroom. He hadn’t heard the man enter the room, a fact that made him doubly glad he chose not to pull out his diary. He glanced through the corner of his eye as the older wizard waltzed down the middle of the room towards the front of the classroom. His robes billowing out behind him as if they were struggling to escape from the man themselves. 

“Today we will be learning about the unbreakable vow. Can anyone tell me about this vow?” Snape drawled as if bored by the topic at hand. He stood before the front of the class, not bothering to turn around to confirm if anyone knew. 

Hermione raised her hand, leaning forward over her desk, as if afraid she would miss the opportunity to display her wealth of knowledge to everyone. 

“No one? How disappointing.”  

Harry rested his head in the palm of his hand as he gazed at the professor. It seemed all anger towards the man had dissipated, leaving in its wake a sadness, a greater understanding of the man before him. He felt compelled to keep his eyes on the professor, as if doing so would reveal finer details he had failed to notice before. It was as though he felt drawn to the man, curious and intrigued to learn more about the events that had shaped him. 

“Turn to page 724 Mr Potter.” Snape turned around on his heel. Harry glanced down at his book, realizing he had yet to open it. Was Snape that perceptive? The young wizard quickly glanced around the room, soon confirming he was indeed the only one whose book was shut. Even Ron was on the right page.

“Yes Sir.” Harry obeyed, following the man’s direction as he drew open his workbook. 

Harry forced himself to pay attention to the topic at hand, if for no other reason than fear of being singled out by his _favourite_ professor once more. Though, a part of Harry admired the man, his strength to overcome the suffocating darkness he had been born into. 

He found his eyes running over the man once more.

“What are you staring at Mr Potter?” Snape scowled as he etched closer to his least favourite student. He folded his arms across his chest as he gazed down at the boy.

“N-nothing Sir.” Harry faltered, unable to maintain eye contact with the intimidating man before him. The heat rose in his cheeks as he suddenly became aware that everyone had stopped what they were doing to watch this scene play out before their eyes. He felt annoyed at himself, annoyed that he had allowed himself to get embarrassed yet again by Snape. 

“Detention Mr Potter. Perhaps you will be more forthcoming to me then.”

Harry sighed, his face resembled that of someone in great pain as he turned away from the professor.

 

*~*~*

 

It was broaching on noon as he navigated his way through the surge of students, each one shoving into the next as they struggled to reach the great hall. It seemed each pupil was in it for themselves as Harry attempted to ignore the clawing in his stomach. 

Harry decided instead to make his way for the one place that promised him silence.

The library.

It didn’t take him long to reach his destination once he set his mind to it. The young wizard headed straight for the farthest corner of the library before settling on a desk. He tossed his bag down onto the wooden contraption as though it weighed a tonne. He finally felt ready to know what happened next in Snape’ Hogwarts saga as he glanced protectively over his shoulder.     

No one.

Perfect.

He flipped open the book before turning to the next installment.

 

 

_ 20th September _

 

_ I have neglected you my diary, my one true friend. The only one I can tell all to without judgement or repercussion. The truth be told I don’t know which is worse, Hogwarts or Spinner’s End. Perhaps both but for varying reasons. I have been trying my best to avoid Lucius since the party, though it is proving to be rather difficult. It seems as though everywhere I go, he’s never far away, even when I deliberately go the long way. Despite this, every time I do encounter him, it’s as though nothing happened. If my body didn’t ache, then I might have doubted if the event actually took place. Though, unfortunately I suspect it wouldn’t be the last time. Surely Lucius wouldn’t have the audacity to try something here at Hogwarts. Yet the mere sight of him gives me the chills. The eye contact he forcefully extracts from me when addressing the entirety of Slytherin house, does nothing but envelope me with an irrational anger. It consumes me, yet it is tainted with disgust at him, at myself. It seems my stomach is in a constant state of nausea, a potion has yet to remedy it, though I still have a book full to try. If I'm honest with myself, I'd have to say the prospects of my life improving past this point are not great. I often find myself wondering if the struggle is truly worth it. Perhaps it would be better if I just sunk to the bottom of the great lake. _

  
  


_ 27th September _

 

_ Damn him! Why did he have to take her away from me? Damn James Potter. I can barely take this place, this castle, the people who inhabit it any longer. Perhaps I should just use the dungeon tunnel and escape to the shrieking shack this weekend? I need to escape my life, everything that makes me who I am, I wish I could escape it all, forever.  _

 

  
Harry Gasped as he tore his eyes away from the pages before him. He was surprised by the professor’s outburst of anger, but then, should he have been so surprised? The young wizard turned his attention toward a large foggy window to his right. The light smatterings of rain ran down the glass, tainting his view further. 

It was the promise of a storm to come.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your kudos and I hope your enjoying the story :)


	5. Chapter 5

Harry ambled down a long, dark corridor towards his imminent demise, or rather, detention. It didn’t matter, at the end of the day they liable to be the same thing. Though, that being said, ordinarily he would feel a sense of foreboding, dread and contempt for his ex potions professor, but today felt different. The merging of two voices startled him, dragging back to his reality and stalling him in his tracks. Both sounded familiar but one was painfully distinctive. It was one he had grown to despise above all others. The young wizard stood several feet away from the classroom entrance. It wasn’t his intention to overhear the conversation but he couldn’t deny his own intrigue. 

“What’s wrong Severus? It wouldn’t be hard for you, you know.” 

“You must understand that I won’t do such a thing Lucius.”

“Is that right? Well, that’s too bad. It would be in your own interests to just pass Draco you know.”

“How can I pass someone who has hardly turned up to class? Besides, you and I both know that he needs to learn how to defend himself against the Dark Arts more than anyone, except perhaps Potter.”

“But surely you must realize he doesn’t need protection? The dark lord looks out for him, he is destined for great things you know, much greater than you could have ever hoped to achieve.” Lucius snickered as he turned on his heel before making for the door. Harry panicked as the blonde wizard’s shadow drew closer to the entrance way. 

Should he run? 

Should he hide? 

But where could he hide? 

He was trapped in a long, narrow corridor. 

No.

He wasn’t afraid of Lucius, he just didn’t want him to know he had overheard their private conversation, or rather, his threat. Harry’s body failed to follow his commands as the blonde haired wizard rounded the corner. 

It was too late now. 

“Harry Potter. What a delightful surprise.” Lucius paced slowly from the classroom, his expression alluding to the fact that he was anything but delighted.  

All anxiety drained from Harry’s body, replaced in full by a surge of rage.

“And what brings you here at this time of night? You haven’t been naughty now, have you?”

“You’re one to talk.” Harry gritted his teeth, spitting the words from his lips, not bothering to take the opportunity to filter his verbal assault towards the man. Harry glanced at the doorway, Snape hovered by the opening, the reminiscence of a smile lingered upon his lips. The gesture was quickly abandoned as he noticed Harry’s attention on him. The last of the evening sun shone through large filtered window's behind Snape, engulfing his form, leaving in its wake a glow, causing him to appear almost angelic.

“Don’t think you know me Potter.” Lucius spat, re summoning the young wizard’s attention.

“There are things I wish I didn’t know about you.”

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

Harry’s heart pounded. He had said too much but it was too late to back away now, he would only appear cowardly if he did that. Besides, he wanted nothing more than to give Lucius a piece of his mind.

Lucius paced slowly closer, as if doing so would entice the boy to spill his secrets.

"I'm late for detention." Harry stated as calmly as his emotions would allow before striding past the blonde wizard. He expected Lucius to seize him, do something, anything at least, but he didn't.

  
The young wizard paced with purpose into the classroom, by-passing Snape before heading to the front of the class. The Defense Against the Dark Art's teacher allowed himself to appear perplex for a moment before gathering himself and closing the door in Lucius's face. 

 

*~*~*

 

“Take a seat Mr Potter.” Snape sighed, the words left his lips with minimal enthusiasm. It was as though the desire to care had been stolen from his body. He had expected the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor to be agitated, irritated and potentially irrational, but he seemed almost defeated. 

“A-are you okay Professor?” Harry dared to ask as he sat at his desk.

“Of course Mr Potter. Why would you bother asking me that? A brat such as yourself couldn’t truly want to know.”

“I’m not a brat and I do care.”

“I am perfectly fine.” It was a lie and they both knew it. Snape had spent decades building this horrendous barrier and Harry knew it would take more than words to tear it down.

“If you say so.” Harry sighed, loosely alluding to the fact he didn’t believe the man in the slightest. Snape turned on his heel to face the younger wizard.

“Now, we both know why your here.” Snape leaned forward, forcing his hands down onto Harry’s desk. His face was mere inches from Harry’s as his breath danced across the young wizard’s neck.

“Tell me, why do you keep staring at me like that?” Snape stated as though doubting Harry’s intentions could be anything but malicious.

“Like what?” The truth was he hadn’t realised he had spent that much time staring at the ex potions professor. Nor that he was perceptive enough to notice.

“Like what? Mr Potter, you can’t seriously expect me to buy into your feigned naivity.”  

An unease swept through Harry’s stomach as he stared blankly at the older wizard before him. He didn’t know what to say, even if he did, he doubted he would have been able to force the words from his lips. 

“I saw you speaking to Dumbledore in the corridor.”

Harry nodded, not disputing the man’s words but wondering what the relevance of them was. Harry jumped as Snape raised his wand at the classroom door, a swift twist of his wrist and the wooden barrier locked shut.

“I also overheard your conversation with Mr Malfoy.”

“Yes, it was just outside the classroom, I’d be surprised if you didn’t hear it.”

“Don’t get smart with me Potter. What exactly did you mean when you said that there was things about him you would rather not know.”

“N-nothing.”

“Is that right?”

“Yes.”

“Give me your bag.”

Harry flinched, he hadn’t expected Snape to demand the one thing he didn’t wish to hand over. He couldn’t afford for the man to discover the book in his bag. He would never forgive him if he discovered his privacy had been so intimately violated.

“T-there’s nothing in there.”

“If that were true, then you wouldn’t have any trouble handing it over to me.”

Harry began to panic, it had become apparent that Snape was onto him, he suspected he was in possession of his diary.

“Give it to me Potter.”

“No.” The young wizard gasped before grabbing his bag and dashing for the door.

“No you don’t Potter!” Snape growled but made no attempt to pursue him. 

Harry quickly approached the door, upon the other side lay his salvation, his escape, his safety. He pulled down the lock, only to discover it was stuck. 

No. 

Of couse. 

Snape had trapped him in here, no wonder he didn’t bother chasing after him. 

“Well Potter?”

He needed to think of something and fast. How could he distract Snape so much that he forgot about his diary? 

Would could possibly be so effective? 

“You want to know why I was staring at you?”

It was Snape’s turn to stay silent as he stepped toward the younger wizard. 

“I was staring at you because I think your beautiful.”

The professor stalled in his tracks, it seemed for the first time he had no idea what to say. Confusion was rife in his eyes as he contemplated Harry's almost desperate words.

“You’ve known me the better part of six years Potter and you decide now is a good time to tell me you have a crush on me? I think you're lying.”

“It’s not a crush.”

“Is that so?” His confusion turned to delight as Snape continued his trail towards the teenager. 

"Why is it so hard for you to trust anyone?"

Snape stalled in his tracks, as if resenting the words presented to him.

"Let us see if what you are saying is true."

"What do you mean?" Harry's eyes narrowed as he suspected Snape was about get his veritaserum out.

"You have her eyes, you know."

"Who?" Harry dared to ask, surprised as his professor's voice adopted a distinctively softer tone.

"Your mother."

"So I've been told."

"You do. It's unmistakable." The professor paced closer to Harry, stopping mere inches from the boy. Harry resisted the urge to step away, not that there was truly anywhere to go.

Harry's eyes widened as Snape ran his finger under the younger wizard's chin, drawing his chin to meet his gaze.

"W-what are you-" Harry began, his words cut off by the professor's surprisingly supple lips.

Snape ran his tongue along Harry's lower lip as if deriving some truth from the boy's reaction. The young wizard panicked as Snape slid his tongue into his mouth, it was as though he were testing the boy, trying to determine if he was in fact true to his words. Or was he just messing with his head?

Snape pulled away from the boy, turning on heel before striding toward the front of the class.

“Can I go now?” Harry begin, his words seemingly less forceful than he has intended.

Snape deliberately waited a few moments before raising his wand and aiming if for the door. It seemed he had gotten the answer he was fishing for, whether Harry was aware that he had given it or not.

“You may go.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

Harry began down the corridor, his walk quickly unfolding into a run. He couldn’t believe what had just happened, had Snape actually just kissed him? Then how come didn’t feel compelled to wipe the man’s saliva from his lips?

He shook the thoughts from his head as he rushed to the library. He needed space away from everyone, not to mention how frightfully close he had come to losing the diary. He couldn’t afford to let that happen again. Carrying around this book was proving far too risky, but then again he needed it, it was his potions book after all. Perhaps he should just read as much as he could encase the inevitable happened and it got seized.

Harry struggled on, too afraid to look behind him as he ran through the library door, only realizing in that moment that that act in itself was likely to draw him unwanted attention. He made for his usual desk before choosing to ignore the world around him.

  
  


_ 31st October _

_ Happy Halloween. _

  
  


_ 1st November _

_ Last night was truly horrid. Lucius dragged me to what appeared to be a death eater meeting. I will be expelled for sure should Dumbledore find out, though it appeared Lucius had snuck out a many number of times before without getting caught. A man named Voldemort appeared to be the ringleader. I fear the terrible things he is capable of doing, yet they fascinate me. Part of me what’s to explore another side of myself, learn what I am truly capable of. Perhaps he can help me. _

  
  


_ 9th November 1971 _

 

_ The shrieking Shack has become a second home to me. If I were honest I wouldn’t mind it becoming my real home. To run away from my current life and become someone else would be a dream. I am aware these journal entries are sporadic at best, sometimes I feel l want to keep things to myself, that means not even sharing with you, my diary. _

  
  


_ 26 November 1971 _

 

_ The Mail arrived today. Lucius got a new broomstick, so did James for that matter. The bastard. Lily received a book about unusual spells, Avery got one about subtle curses. I got nothing. Hardly surprising really. Unless you count inheriting Lucius’s old broomstick, though I have little use for it. I’m not on the quidditch team and likely never will be. _

  
  


_ 13th December 1971 _

 

_ Christmas is almost upon me, I feel the pressure of the professors and all those around me to return home for the festive season. No part of me desires to return to that cold, empty house, it can’t be as bad as last christmas. I still have the scar from my father, though thank the gods it is in a place that I suspect no one will ever see it. Except maybe bloody Lucius. Speaking of which, what could be worse than spending Christmas with the Malfoy’s? Perhaps going home isn’t so bad. _

  
  


Harry chuckled at Snape’s last comment, perhaps their shared hated of the blonde haired, pure blooded antagonists was grounds for a solid friendship. He glanced around the room, noticing that it seemed the entire library was empty.

Good.

Harry ran the tip of his wand over the text before him

 

_ 24th December 1971 _

 

Harry closed his eyes as the nauseating sensation consumed his body once more. He was aware it would pass in a matter of moments as a bright light faded from around him, giving birth to what seemed to be a memory etched in darkness. 

Harry's eyes instantly fell upon the young Severus Snape as he stammered down a chaotic street, covered in nothing but christmas decorations. The young teenager slouched his shoulders as he weaved in between boisterous, self righteous muggles as they went about their christmas business.

Harry felt his soul drowned out by the sea of souls, yet this was only the mere reflection of the past reality. He dreaded to think how Snape felt as the boy approached the end of a block of houses. His paced slowed as he grew closer to the front door. He tapped gently on the door, his knuckles grating chips of paint from the faded surface. 

Snape stood there for what seemed like an eternity before rapping his hands against the hard surface once more. 

A few moments later the door creaked open revealing an older woman as she stood there in an apron.

“Your home Severus.” She nodded, not bothering to move from her position in the doorway, as if barring the boy from entrance.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Come inside!” The woman demanded, finally stepping aside to allow the boy entrance. 

“Yes mother.” The boy bowed his head slightly, as if fearing the repercussions of disobeying.

“Go upstairs! Your father will be home shortly. I don’t want to hear one more peep out of you! Do you hear?”

Snape nodded before ascending the staircase, every reason for not wanting to come back here flooding his mind like a tsunami.

“We don’t have all year! Climb those stairs like you mean it!” She growled after him, waving a wooden spoon around in her fingers from the bottom of the staircase. 

Snape wasted no time as he dashed up, taking in several steps with one large step. Harry followed the boy without hesitation as he lead the way unwittingly into a sparse bedroom. Within in contained a rundown set of drawers and an old, single bed. He stepped towards the bare, stained mattress, sighing as he allowed his body to fall against it. He closed his eyes as he resisted the urge to release the sobs from within his heart. 

Harry lingered by the door before taking several steps closer to Snape. There was something about this scene that felt disturbingly familiar. He resisted the call of his own memories that the Dursley's had forever scarred within his soul. The pounding of footsteps grew louder in his ears as the bedroom door suddenly flew open. Within the doorway stood a thin, tall man, an empty bottle of whiskey dangled from his fingers as he stepped toward Snape. 

“P-please don’t Father.” Snape whispered as he felt the man stand over his bed. He didn’t even need to pry open his eyes to know who it was as he rolled onto his side, away from the man.

“Turn over.” His father demanded, spitting the words from his mouth, clearly agitated by his his son’s resistance. 

Snape froze, unable to comply with the order given to him.

“I said turn over!” The man growled before grabbing the boy by the shoulder and forcing him onto his stomach. Snape clenched his teeth as the man yanked down his trousers before pressing his weight against the boy’s body, pushing his slender form further against the mattress. Snape struggled to wrangle enough oxygen into his lungs as the weight above him slowly suffocated him. He gasped as his father entered him, forcing his way deep inside with one foul thrust. The action was swiftly followed by a hand as it snaked its way over his lips. Snape instinctively reached for it, in what he suspected would be a vain attempt to pry it off. He didn’t need yet another thing depriving him of desperately needed oxygen. 

“When are you ever going to learn to just do a I say?!” The man growled as he relentlessly pounded into Severus. 

“Don’t ever plead with me again, you hear? You worthless mistake.” He spat as his body released it’s fluid into the young teenager.

Harry felt the memory closing in around him before fading from his eyes. He was being pulled back to the present. He found himself back in the library, his heart refused to stop pounding as his eyes darted around the peaceful setting. A nausea welled in the pit of his stomach as he clenched his fist in disgust. How could someone’s own father do that? And call their own child a mistake.

 


	7. Chapter 7

“Mischief managed.” Harry flicked his wand over the diary with great intrigue as the book folded into itself before returning to its original size. He was enjoying the peace and quiet offered by the library, along with the sanctity and safety it offered.

Harry closed his eyes, he felt as though his body wouldn’t get up from his seat, no matter how many times he told it to. He slumped over the potions book before feeling the shelves of books around him fade from his consciousness. Slouching over this desk like this was far from comfortable but that wasn’t exactly his biggest concern at the moment.

“Mr Potter.” 

The voice was familiar as it summoned him back to a reality he wasn’t yet ready to return to. Harry’s eyes slit open as they searched the limited range of view offered by the angle of his body. They fell upon a familiar figure, one he had witnessed only hours earlier. 

“Severus.” Harry bolted up in surprise.

“Severus? I didn’t realize we were on a first name basis Mr Potter.”

“S-sorry professor.”

Snape narrowed his eyes, as if contemplating whether to punish the boy further or whether to accept his apology. 

“You don’t need to apologize Potter.” Snape’s voice adopted a softer tone as he stepped closer to the seated student.

“I see you don’t have the latest issue of Advanced Potions.” Snape whispered, peering over the boy as if to get a better view of what he appeared to be hiding. Harry instinctively leaned over the book, though he suspected there was little point now.

“That almost looks like the edition I had when I attended Hogwarts.” Snape gazed down at the book, most of which was barely visible as it rested on the desk under of Harry. The professor seemed fixated, as if contemplating whether to pick it up and further examine it. 

“Yeah, one of the other students gave it to me because I wasn’t originally going to do potions this year.” Harry lied, holding his gaze with the older wizard, as if attempting to appear sincere to his words. 

“Is that because you thought I’d be teaching it?” Snape darted the boy a penetrating glare, though the essence of amusement played about his eyes.

“I endured it for 5 years, what’s one more?” Harry chuckled slightly under his breath as he offered the teacher a faint smile.

“Endured.” Snape repeated, sliding his tongue along his bottom lip as if tasting it on his tongue.

“I didn’t mean it badly sir.”

“Of course.” Snape nodded faintly, though his eyes never once fell from the boy’s form. It were as though he were studying him, trying to determine a specific feature about him, though Harry suspected he would never be privy to such information.

“Dumbledore is looking for you.” Snape added before preparing to turn on his heel.

“How did you know I was here?”

“Gut feeling.”

Harry nodded, full well realizing the professor wasn’t being entirely honest with him.

“Though I must say, I am surprised to find you in the library.”

“I’m full of surprises.” Harry smirked, his words coming off more saultry than he had intended.

“Perhaps you’d care to indulge me sometime.” Snape leaned forward, resting his hand on the corner of Harry’s wooden table.

Harry sat there stunned, he was taken back by the man’s forwardness. Though, he was even more surprised by the lack of his own resistance. The young wizard offered the man a smile before gathering the potions book in his fingers and sliding it into his bag.

"Of course."

  
  


*~*~* 

 

“I heard you were looking for me.” Harry began as he stood at the door to Dumbledore’s office.

“Harry my boy, please do take a seat.” Dumbledore nodded, though didn’t bother to turn and face the boy.

Harry’s eyes darted around the room before doing as the Headmaster has suggested. He allowed his body to fall into the soft sofa, it’s comfort doing little to dissipate the anxiety that lingered within his heart.

“I do wonder how you are getting on?”

“Getting on?”

“With Professor Snape?”

“Better.” Had stated plainly, as though trying to determine of the elderly wizard was asking a trick question.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“Have you read it sir?”

“The diary? No.”

“Then how do you know-” Harry began before remembering exactly who he was speaking to.

“I’ve seen inside his mind Harry. Severus is not a bad man, just a man dealt an impossible hand.”

“I know that now.”

“I’m glad you are beginning to understand Harry, because there will come a time you will rely heavily on this man.”

Harry looked up to the wizard in confusion as his lips began to part. He so desperately wanted to know as to what Dumbledore meant, but he knew the Headmaster seldom gave away his game plan.

“Yes Harry, it is important that you forge a bond with Severus, and one that is not easily broken either.”

Harry nodded, though he doubted he truly understood but expected it would become clearer with time. 

 

*~*~*

 

“Reveal your secrets.” Harry whispered, waving his wand over the book once more as he tiptoed down the abandoned corridor toward Gryffindor Tower. He couldn’t deny the inspiration coursing through his veins as he turned a corner, he knew there was little point in rushing back to his room, all it's occupants were guaranteed to all be asleep, besides, he was far too curious to sleep now. He traipsed down a narrow corridor toward a vacant bathroom before diving into a cubicle and locking the door behind him. 

 

_ 5th February 1972 _

 

Harry watched as the walls around him almost melted away before giving birth to a new setting, he was now standing outside the castle. He watched intently as Snape stood on the verge of the forbidden forest. He seemed mesmerized, as though captivated by an unforeseen force.

“What’s wrong Snivellus? Resorting to the forbidden forest to find a girlfriend?” James taunted as he paced dangerously close towards Snape’s lonely form.  

“No, dad,” Harry began watching helplessly as the man he had yearned to know all his life waltzed past in the fragment of someone else’s memory. A rush of anger consumed him as he predicted that the events that were about to follow wouldn’t be in any way pleasant.  

With a simple wave of his wand, James summoned a rope around Snape’s ankle. Snape couldn't deny the sense of sheer panic that hijacked his face as he felt his body hoisted in to the air.

“Who wants to see me take off Snivelly’s trousers?” A roar of laughter erupted from within James’s throat, one that demanded company as a group of Gryffindor’s began to gather around the spectacle.

A flash of panic darted across Snape’s eyes as he searched desperately for someone in the audience to put a stop to this madness. 

Only nobody did.

Snape closed his eyes as James mumbled a barely audible curse before expelling it from the tip of his wand. Snape braced himself as the bolt of light collided with his body.

A cool breeze danced across his flesh as he braved the odds and peered through a small slit in his eyes. Deathly silence was quickly followed by an eruption of laughter. Snape felt his heart pound as he suspected he knew why. Damn James Potter hadn’t just taken off his trousers, he had taken off every single item of clothing that adorned the young slytherin’s skin.

“Severus.” Harry began, lost for words as he watched his father taunt and humiliate the last person who deserved this treatment. Nausea welled in the pit of his stomach as he watched his own father with pure disgust.

“Let me give you a hand.” James smirked as stepped closer to the dangling teenager before aiming his wand at the thick, twine rope.

Harry watched as the rope was severed, causing the young Snape’s body to collide with the earth beneath him.

Snape instinctively curled himself into a ball, if for no other reason than to hide his exposed flesh from prying eyes.

How could his father be so cruel? It was no wonder Snape had always held a fervent hatred for his father. It was a hatred Harry had always thought irrational until now. Harry closed his eyes to the memory playing out before him, he didn’t want to believe it but it seemed his father isn’t the man he always imagined.

The young wizard opened his eyes. He was now back in the small cubicle as he closed the diary within his fingers.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life just keeps getting better -_-

“How was detention Harry?” Ron questioned lazily, not bothering to look up from his book as his best friend stepped into the dormitory. Harry stared at his best friend in confusion, wondering why he was still awake at this ungodly hour.

“It didn’t really happen.” Harry sighed as he ambled toward his bedside.

“Didn’t happen? Didn’t you go Harry? You know Snape’s going to kill you when he finds you.”

“It’s fine Ron, I went but he let me off early.”

“No way! That doesn’t sound very Snape like. Did he have somewhere to be?”

“I don’t know.” Harry mumbled, hoping his friend would just drop the topic.

“Then, where have you been this whole time?”

“The library.”

“The library?” Ron screwed up his face in disgust, as if wondering what demon had possessed his best friend.

“What’s that face for? How is the library any different to what your doing right now?”

Ron closed his book before sliding it onto his bedside cabinet.

Harry slid his potions book from his bag before tossing it onto his bed.

“Harry!”

“What?”

“How come you still got that ruddy old book? Haven’t you ordered a new one yet? 

“Obviously not.”

“Give me a look at that.” Ron stated before swiping the precious book from beneath his best friends eyes.

“No!”

“What do you mean no? You just don’t want to stop being at the top of the class.”

“So.” Harry, reaching out in a failed attempt to steal his book back.

“Hey, why is it so much bigger than before?” Ron raised an eyebrow before flicking through the pages, as if trying to decipher it’s secretes.

“No Ron stop!”

“Why?” The red haired wizard pushed himself away from Harry, knowing for sure now that his best friend was hiding something.

“Is this a diary?”

“I don’t know, now give it back.”

“This is what you have been reading this whole time, isn’t it? This is what has been distracting you in class?”

Harry stood there, his mouth hanging open as he struggled to summon a believable lie to his lips. Even if Ron did read it, would he be able to tell it was Snape’s diary? Maybe if he entered it he would, but he wouldn’t be able to figure out how to do that, would he? Unless he showed Hermione.

Ron dashed to the furthest corner of the room, clenching the book in his fingers as he turned to a folded page. 

 

  
_ 4th January 1972 _

 

_ I never thought I’d be so glad to see the back of Christmas. Perhaps I should have gone to stay with the Malfoy’s after all. I figured all this spare time on the Hogwarts Express was a good opportunity to finally put an entry into you. I won’t be going home at the end of the school year, that much is certain. I don’t know where I’ll go but anywhere is better than there.  _

 

“1972?! Who is this? Who was at Hogwarts then?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“But surely you must suspect someone? You’ve read more of it than me after all. Plus it says here the Malfoy’s.”

“Well it can’t be Malfoy's diary then, can it?” Harry suggested bluntly before laying back on his bed.

“Nah, maybe it’s you know who’s diary.”

“I don’t think Voldemort attended Hogwarts in the 70’s.”

“Then who else?”

“I don’t know, but could I have my potions book back please? I’ll need it for class tomorrow.”

 

*~*~*

  
  


“Good Morning all!” Professor Slughorn greeted his students as they all stood around in a semicircle. Harry and Ron quickly snuck into the back of the que as if they were late.

“Today we will be brewing Felix Felicis. If you would all return to your desks and turn to page 178 of your potions book.”

The professor grinned like an idiot as he watched his students disperse to their usual tables.

“Ah Harry, someone left something on your desk for you.” The large professor called from the front of the class, as if afraid the boy wouldn’t notice the item off of his own accord.

“Do you know who it was?”

“I didn’t see them no Harry my boy.”

Harry made no effort to hide his confusion as he paced toward his desk, erring on the side of cautious. His eyes ran over the otherwise barren wooden bench before falling on a book. It was the latest edition of ‘Advanced Potion Making’. Harry’s jaw dropped open, he didn’t need to speculate as to who had given it to him.

“Your new book finally arrived.” Ron smiled as he watched Harry collect it in his fingers, as if trying to determine how much it weighed. 

“But I, never ordered one.”

 

*~*~*

  
  


“Do you know where Snape’s chambers are?” Harry began before collecting a chicken drumstick from the large bowl before him. The great hall seemed especially crowded this dinner time, though Harry couldn’t figure out why.

“No.” Hermione screwed up her face at the question as though it were a joke.

“Why on Earth would you want to know something like that?” Ron appeared equally confused as he rammed an entire piece of meatloaf into his mouth.

“No reason.” Harry quickly pursed his lips, wondering what on Earth had possessed him to ask such a thing. 

Of course it had been a bad idea. 

Wait. 

That was it. 

He would get the Marauders map out tonight, after everyone else had gone to sleep. Where ever Snape was, that would have to be where his chambers were located? 

  
  


*~*~*~

 

Harry trampled down the cold, dark corridor, carrying within his fingers the Marauder’s Map. It was his safety, his only guarantee that he wouldn’t get caught as he watched carefully encase other names appeared on the parchment before him.

He kept going, eventually narrowing in on the room he presumed was Snape’s chambers. He soon stood before a large, thick oak door. He closed his eyes, preparing himself for what exactly he would say to the man if he ever summoned the courage to knock on the door.

The decision was taken away from him as the door flew open.

“Mr Potter?” Snape stood, hovering over the entrance to his chambers as if guarding it against an intruder.

“Good Evening Professor." Harry began, unsure of what to say as his eyes darted toward the ground. 

"Just what brings you here at this late hour?"

"I just wanted to thank you for this.” Harry held up the latest edition of Advanced Potion Making that he had received in class.

“You figured out it was me?”

“Who else would it be?”

“Very perceptive Potter.” Snape deliberately stalled before continuing. 

“Now you don’t have to worry about what page you should actually be on and keeping up, though from what Slughorn tells me, you proving quite the potions master.”

“Thank you sir.” Harry’s eyes darted to the floor, as if embarrassed to be praised by the subject matter expert before him. Does this mean Snape was truly interested in him if he bothered to ask Slughorn about his progress? 

A silence fell between them as Harry scrounged his head for something to say. Snape eyed the boy curiously before darting his eyes back inside.

“Why don’t you come inside?” 

Harry quickly glanced up, as if taken aback by the man’s suggestion.

“T-thank you.”

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your lovely comments and I hope you continue to enjoy this story. :)

Harry certainly wasn’t expecting this response as he followed his ex-potions professor into a large open space. The room was lit with the essence of candle light, the warm flames enticing an orange hue to permeate throughout the room. The decor was ornate, rustic, each piece flowing flawlessly into the next.

“Have a seat Potter.” Snape waved his hand toward several dark brown sofas, letting him know he could have his pick of any of them.

“Thank you.” Harry couldn’t prevent the smile from forming on his lips as he took the seat closest to the door. He watched as Snape veered toward the kitchen, disappearing for a few moments before returning with a bottle of what appeared to be fire whiskey.

“Care for a drink Mr Potter?”

“Thank you Professor.” Harry nodded, not expecting such hospitality as he made a point to sit up straighter in his chair. 

“You don’t have to call me Professor, not here at least.” He stated plainly, though his words weren’t absent warmth. He summoned two glasses before loosen the lid of the bottle. He movements were graceful, elegant as he precisely tipped an adequate amount of amber liquid into both glasses. He placed the bottle onto the coffee table before reaching for one of the glasses. 

“Here you go.” Snape passed the vessel over to the younger wizard as he reached out to receive it. Harry’s fingers brushed gently against Snape’s, it was an invertant act that send a jolt through his body. A connection had passed between them, it had seemed almost electric, as if for a moment, two had become one. Fused together by far from ideal childhoods, yet, it felt more than that. It was like he no longer needed words to communicate with the man before him.

Harry couldn’t deny the similarities between Snape’s childhood and his own, though Harry had truly supportive friends, something Snape’s experience lacked. 

Is that what derailed him?

Is that what drove him to the Dark Lord?

No.

It had to be more than that, loneliness alone wouldn’t drive someone to mindlessly follow a murderer. Though, he suspected Snape never once truly lost his mind, got misguided perhaps, but never truly gone.  The man held a great strength within him, it took extreme courage to struggle against such adversity from others, but also from himself. He was greater than he anyone gave him credit for. 

Harry wondered how he himself would have turned out should all those events have occurred to him. He had been awarded the protection offered to him by his friends, though he knew it wouldn’t take much to compromise everything should that protection be taken away. Reading Snape’s diary helped him to truly understand the man before him, an effect Dumbledore had alluded to.  

“So, I take it you are enjoying teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts?”

“Yes. I have to say it is where my heart lies, more so than potions at least.” Snape leaned back in his seat, his glass of amber liquid dangling elegantly from his long fingers. His features appearing mellowed out by the warm hue of the numerous candles that adorned the room.

“Care for some more?” Snape raised an eyebrow as he noticed Harry's glass was now half empty.

“Please.”

Snape rose to his feet, collecting the bottle in his fingers without taking his eyes off of Harry. He stepped toward him, stalling before reaching out for him, it was as though his body had a mind of its own. Snape rested his palm against Harry’s cheek as though in a trance. 

A shiver ran through Harry’s body as the man’s fingers slowly traced his cheekbones before sliding down his soft skin, ultimately ceasing as they reached his chin.

“I fear I may have misjudged you Harry.”

The young man opened his mouth to speak, except words eluded him. 

“I thought you’d be exactly like your father, but I see-”

“I’m not like my father.” Harry instinctively released the words from his lips, not making any effort to mask the hostility behind them.

“Yes. I see now that you are kind, like your mother.” A deep sadness welled within Snape’s heart, an emotion so intense that he couldn’t deny it in his eyes. 

“You knew my mother?” Harry leaned in closer, it was a fact alluded to in Snape’s diary yet he couldn’t let the man before him figure out that connection. The Professor’s guard was crumbling, yet there was still no way he could let the man know that he had been reading his memoir, it would do nothing but resurrect that wall between them, the division that had long prevented any potential friendship from blooming.

“Yes. She was an uncommonly kind witch. I dare say my only true friend.” Snape sighed as he leaned back in his seat, taking a gentle sip of whiskey before closing his eyes. Harry had never seen the professor like this before, it made him seem remarkably human, a quality that wasn’t always so obvious in the man.

Snape was summoned from his thoughts as several knocks pounded against his door. The man’s form froze instantly, the expression of sheer panic was plastered across his face. Another set of knocks prompted the professor to move as he rose from his seat once more.

The individual on the other side of the door didn't wait to be invited as they turned the door knob before pushing the wooden door open.

“Harry dear boy, what a surprise.” Dumbledore smiled, though he didn’t seem at all surprised to see the young wizard sitting there on Snape’s couch.

“Good Evening Professor Dumbledore.” Harry offered as he stumbled to climb to his feet.

“Ah, Fire whiskey, my favourite.” The elder wizard smiled, leaning forward before summoning a glass within his fingers. He took no hesitation as he collected the bottle in his palm before helping himself to the amber liquid.

“Headmaster, what brings you here at this late hour?” Snape allowed his body to fall back into the couch, clenching the glass before gently tapping his fingernails against it.

“Severus, if I might have a word.” Dumbledore turned to the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

“I’ll just go then.” Harry murmured to himself as he placed his half drunken glass onto the coffee table. 

“Sweet dreams Harry.” Dumbledore nodded dismissively to the young wizard before turning his attention back to Severus.

Harry staggered from the room as he fought against the urge to turn back. He couldn’t resist as he glanced over his shoulder. Dumbledore’s lips had just finished moving as he watched the light fall from Snape’s eyes. 

What had Dumbledore said to the professor to invoke such a reaction? It was a puzzle Harry desperately wished to solve but the time wasn’t now. He turned to look away, capturing for a moment Snape’s gaze. The faint essence of a smile danced fleetingly across his lips, as if encouraging the boy that it was okay to go. Harry returned the gesture before stepping out into the dark, cold, lonesome corridor. He stepped away from Snape’s chambers, feeling as though a piece of him had been left there, a piece he didn’t even realize he was missing until Snape ignited it within his heart..   

He traipsed all the way back to Gryffindor tower, the moonlight was his only solid companion as he tackled each step, one at a time. He flopped on to his bed, sliding his hand under his pillow before digging out Snape’s diary. Even simply holding it within his grasp brought the man’s energy to life in his fingers. He drew the cover back before finding his page.

  
  


_ 13th February 1972 _

_ It seems as though Lucius had got wind of that god awful tree incident. Then again, so had the entire school. As revenge I suppose, he made a point of stripping James of his clothes before bundling them up and tossing them into the Great Lake. He proceeded to force the young wizard to swim in after them, for fear of losing them forever. _

_ The man confounds me. Why would he come to my defense when he obviously wants so much to hurt me in other ways? I possess a deep seated hatred of Lucius, yet he offers a protection that I simply cannot afford to be without. That being said, he cannot protect me from himself. There must be another reason behind his motivation. A more selfish one at least. Perhaps he is trying to win my favour? But why? He isn’t that kind of man, he is privileged, if he wants something, he will just go out and get it. Or perhaps he is more possessive than I initially realized.  _

_ Either way, I hate to admit that his actions have caused me to rely upon him more than I would have liked, though there’s always the possibility that he is using these antics to exploit my vulnerability, in turn drawing me toward the Dark Lord. Then again, this is Lucius’s final year, I dread to think how Potter and his gang will enact revenge upon me next year. I need to be able to defend myself, I don’t wish to spend the rest of his time at Hogwarts living in fear of who is around each corner.  _

_ I don’t know what to think any more, I feel as though I’m struggling against a fate that’s destined to be inevitable, as though all the stars have aligned in a direction that I cannot avoid. I can feel my resistance fading, soon it will be beyond my reach. I feel as if the events in ones life are preordained, certain aspects will happen no matter which choices one makes. A predetermined route with a small vein of options. Perhaps I’m only making excuses for my own miserable existence, but in spite of this it still seems like some people have seemingly endless luck. _

_ That’s it, I have made up my mind. I want to meet him. I want to meet the Dark Lord. I want test subjects for the curses I have created.  _

_ I want to test them on James Potter. _


	10. Chapter 10

Harry’s eyes stirred as the morning light shone across his bed, as if demanding his attention for another day. Snape’s diary lay sprawled about amongst a bundle of the young wizard’s blankets. He instinctively reached for it, he still had time to read ahead before the other occupants of the dorm roused from their slumber. 

 

_ 3rd March 1972 _

 

_ I am delighted to report that I came top of potions class today. Professor Slughorn said mine was the most powerful brew of Wiggenweld potion he’d ever witnessed. Perhaps I have finally found something I am good at.   _

  
  


_ 15th March 1972 _

 

_ Today I visited Hogsmeade for the first time, though all I did was wander aimlessly through its bustling streets. All the other students spent exceeding amounts of sickles at Honeydukes, though Lucius snuck me into the three broomsticks and gave me a butter beer. I appreciate the gesture, though I resent being indebted to him. I feel as though he will call in the favour soon, by way of something more valuable than money. While we sat in the smoky, crowded bar, Abraxas Malfoy joined us from seemingly nowhere. Though I fear it was no accident. It didn’t matter anyway, I may as well not have been there. He barely bothered to acknowledge me, mostly likely due to my muggle father but it’s still preferable to the alternative of being lined up as his next puppet. _

  
  


_ 1st April 1972 _

 

_ Its April Fools. And what a fool I have been. I just witnessed Lily and Potter holding hands outside Hagrid’s hut. I’d be lying if I said the sight didn’t crush my heart into a thousand pieces. She was the one spark, the one person who still made everything alright, no matter how bad life got. But, she barely talks to me anymore. Last time we spoke, she said she doesn’t understand why I hang around Lucius and his gang. I told her I can’t understand why she spends so much time with bloody James Potter and his gaggle of meddlesome fools. She told me it’s because she likes him. But I know, she doesn’t simply just like him, she loves him. I was a fool to think anyone would ever like me, especially not anyone as kind and majestic as her.  _

_ Lucius was right, I am worthless. _

  
  


Harry bolted upright in his bed. Did he really read that correctly? Was Snape in love with his Mother? Suddenly so much more of the picture made sense. His father had stolen his mother away from Severus, the man Snape so desperately despised, and not without good reason it seemed. And of course, that explains why the professor had seemed so mesmerized with Harry’s eyes. 

They were his mothers eyes.

 

The eyes of his  one true love.

  
  


*~*~*

 

Harry ambled down a long corridor towards his first lesson of the day, Defense Against the Dark Arts. Snape had come close to doing it again last night, to kissing him. Though the man he knew now did not seem remotely similar to the potions professor he had known these past 5 years. He seemed so sincere, as though every single one of his actions was conducted with great care and consideration. 

He couldn’t help but wonder how this morning’s lesson would play out, he was sure the professor would be much the same as always. He would most likely give him detention again, if for no other reason than to appear anything but suspicious. 

Harry stepped foot into the large, spacious classroom before taking his seat at the front of the class, next to Ron and Hermione. 

“Good Morning everyone!” Professor McGonagall greeted the 6th year students as she strode toward the front of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Harry’s eyes darted to the origin of the voice, it was a voice he hadn’t expected to hear but was by no means unfamiliar.

“Excuse me professor, but where is Professor Snape?” Hermione leaned forward in her seat, her simple question coming out more demanding than she had anticipated. She had beaten Harry to the punch, as though reading his mind.

“I’m afraid he has taken ill Miss Granger.” She sighed sympathetically as she took her place behind the lecturn. 

Taken ill? 

No.

Harry knew it was no coincidence, Dumbledore had visited him last night and he certainly didn’t appear ill then. Though, the Headmaster was in possession of what seemed to be important information, and now Snape was absent from class, the one class he was truly passionate about? 

Snape was never absent. 

Ever.

Not even when he taught potions.  

Something was definitely amiss.

“Ill? With what?” Hermione spat out, though her tone suggested that she didn’t truly expect an answer.

“It’s not exactly for me to say now is it dear.” McGonagall confirmed her suspicions as she turned her attention toward the lecture book before her.

“Is he going to be alright at least?” Harry interrupted without thinking, instantly feeling the entire class turn to him. They were all aware of the tension that existed between the infamous professor and Harry himself, they surely couldn’t think him sincere in asking. Yet, he had given them no other reason to suspect anything in their relationship had changed. 

“He is expected to make a full recovery.”

Harry glanced down at his desk, he couldn’t deny the need in his heart, the need to know for certain if Snape was indeed okay.  

He would pay him a visit tonight.

  
  


*~*~*

 

Harry tapped his knuckles against the familiar wooden door, he suspected he should have waited until later in the evening, but all these late nights were starting to catch up on him. He waited a few moments, listening carefully for any sign of movement, any noise, however faint it might be.

Nothing.

He tried again, only this time he ground his knuckles into the wood with each assault.

Still nothing.

It was pointless, the man was here.

The young wizard allowed his body to slide against the wooden surface before crumbling into a heap on the floor of the corridor. 

Where was Severus? 

Harry closed his eyes as tears began to well within them.

  
  


*~*~*

  
  


_ 27th April 1972 _

 

_ I still don’t know if he is my friend or my enemy. He is perpetually playing games with me, yet I don’t understand what he gets out of it. Sometimes I wish the sorting hat had put me in another house, anything but Slytherin. Perhaps then, he and I would not have crossed paths, or perhaps he at least wouldn’t be so interested in me. _

  
  


Harry decided it was time to enter the diary once more as he sat up straighter on his bed. He retrieved his wand from his bedside cabinet before quietly pacing down the stairs of Gryffindor Tower, soon making himself comfortable on a nearby window sill.

  
  


_ 13th May 1972 _

 

Harry watched as his backdrop changed from the safety of his Gryffindor Tower to the frightful Slytherin Dungeons. His entire surrounds were imbued with darkness as he began to make out a form as it stood by the doorway to the dormitory. The moonlight forced its way into the room, illuminating the form as it made its way out of the shadows. 

Lucius.

Harry instinctively gritted his teeth in response to the image before him as it moved gracefully across the room before stopping just shy of one particular bed. 

“Come with me Severus, there is something I wish to show you.” Lucius leaned over Snape’s bed, either knowing, or just plain assuming the boy was awake and would rise, without hesitation to his demands. His face was mere inches from the younger wizard’s as he attempted to intimidate the boy. It seemed the younger wizard had no choice but to follow him as he pushed his blankets back with great reluctance. 

He followed the blonde wizard from the dungeon as fear seized control of his heart. He should have pretended he was asleep, but he knew that would have never worked.

“Professor Slughorn was reluctant to let me use his classroom tonight, but when I said I wanted to show you a few potions, he was more than happy to oblige.” Lucius stated factually, not bothering to lower his voice at all as he led the way through almost pitch black corridors. 

“It seems he is quite fond of you. Which is quite lucky really, seeing as no one else is.” The blonde wizard muttered, increasing his pace as though a sense of impatience had taken hold of his heart.

Snape’s eyes darted to the ground as he realised Lucius’s lips spoke the cold, hard truth. 

He stopped before a door that was all too familiar. 

“Get in here.” Lucius commanded, grabbing the dark haired wizard by the arm and tossing him inside.


	11. Chapter 11

“I want you to brew this. I’ve never been much good at it myself.” Lucius instructed, not bothering to hide the irritation in his voice.

“What is it?” Snape dared to ask as he kept his gaze locked with the ground.

“Poison.” The blonde wizard stated plainly, his voice absent emotion as he guided the dark haired wizard further into the dark classroom.

“Poison? For who?” Snape tried to disguise the hitch in his voice but cringed when he realized he had failed.

“That’s not really your concern now, is it?” Lucius snarled, pushing the younger wizard down into a seat before a desk. A cauldron and various utensils were laid out before him. Lucius tossed a strange leather bound notebook towards the cauldron. Snape watched as it danced vicariously around the edges before finally resting at the bottom of the pot. 

“You will find everything you need in there, all the ingredients you will require are in that cupboard over there. I will be back in an hour, if it is not done, well, lets just say a punishment will be in order.” Lucius made no effort to hide the impeding delight behind his eyes. It was clear the man doubted even Snape‘s ability to get this particular potion brewed within the specified time frame.

“Now go.” Lucius growled, pulling the classroom door open before slamming it closed behind him. 

Harry flinched at the ferocity of the man’s action’s before returning his attention to Snape. The boy was shaking as his fingers struggled to shift through the pages of the notebook. He needed to find the recipe and fast.

Harry watched helplessly as the young wizard finally located the page he was after before carrying the notebook towards the potion’s cupboard. Snape drew open the wooden door before running his eyes over the excessively stocked shelves. He reached out, wrapping his fingers around a glass jar full of Willow Root. He proceeded to find Cicada Shells, Centaur Hooves and Dragon Blood. He bundled the assortment of ingredients in his arms before lugging them over to the table.

“Aguamenti.” Snape whispered as he held his wand at the edge of the black, cast iron cauldron. He ignited the flame underneath it before running his eyes over the recipe once more.

2 drops of dragon’s blood

4 Cicada Shells

½  ounce of Willow Root

1 Centaur Hoof

Snape ground his teeth into his lip as he felt his heart begin to sink. He didn’t know what this poison would be used for but he knew it couldn’t have been good. Perhaps he should make this potion less strong? But wouldn’t Lucius notice? He said he wasn’t very good at brewing potions himself so perhaps not? Either way Severus suspected it would be used to take the life of someone, someone the Dark Lord wanted out of the picture. It had to be someone at Hogwarts, otherwise the Dark Lord would just kill them with his wand. It had to be someone he didn’t have easy access to.  

The thought sent a shiver through the young wizards spine as the water began to bubble. He carefully slid the centaur hoof into the boiling water, making sure no rouge droplets splashed out on to him, or god forbid, the recipe book. He proceeded to add two drops of Dragon’s Blood before dicing up the Willow Root. He needed to follow Lucius more closely, but the idea of being near that man any more than what was strictly necessary filled his soul with pure dread. He sighed as he pondered his limited options. Perhaps one less cicada shell…  Snape nodded to himself as he picked out three small cicada shells before dropping them into the dark mix. He whisked his spoon around the mix before collecting jars filled with remaining ingredients in his arms. 

He walked them back toward the cupboard before returning them to their rightful places and closing the heavy door behind him. He returned to his potion, taking his place in the seat before stirring the earthy mixture once more.

Snape’s heart pounded as the door flew open. He didn’t need to look up to know who it was. The young wizard bit the inside of his lip as he hunched over, as if bracing himself for an assault. 

Lucius stopped next to him, hovering over him as if searching for a reason to punish the boy.  

“You’ve failed.” 

“It’s almost done Lucius, I swear.” Snape pleaded, rising to his feet as if prepared to flee at a moments notice. He suddenly wished he had just put the extra cicada shell in

“I don’t have time to listen to your pitiful excuses.” The older wizard raised his hand before slapping it across the boy’s face.

“Do you remember what I said would happen to you if you failed?”

“Please don’t.” Snape stepped back, an attempt that he would soon learn was in vain as his back collided with a cold wall.

“Silence!” Lucius grasped the boy’s throat, sinking his fingers into the fragile flesh as he began to undo his own belt with his other free hand.

Snape instinctively tried to pry the hand from around his neck. He felt his body slide down the wall before falling against the stone floor.

“Open your mouth.” Lucius demanded, the force of his words offered Snape little alternative.

“Properly!” Lucius growled lowly as he withdrew his cock from his trouser before drawing it to the boy’s lips. 

Snape was too afraid to do anything but comply as he spread his lips for Lucius. He fought the urge to throw up as Lucius’s cock collided with the back of his throat. The man began to thrust without remorse as Snape’s head whacked repeatedly against the stone wall behind him. 

Harry watched with sadness as the struggle left Snape. He had given up, a piece of his soul was now broken forever. Harry grimaced as Lucius let out a desperate moan before pulling away from the boy and shoving his cock back into his trousers.

He made his way over to the cauldron, soon leaning over it as though trying to get a wift of the scent.

“This will have to do.” Lucius sighed, withdrawing his wand before summoning several vials and laying them out along the bench. He began tipping the fluid from the cauldron into several ceramic vials, before securing them with corks. He placed them into a leather bound purse before heading for the door.  

“Now clean this up!” The blonde wizard commanded before disappearing from the classroom.

Snape instinctively reached for the back of his head. His fingers slid through his dark locks before feeling something warm and wet. He pulled his fingers back to get a better look. He gasped as trails of blood ran down his fingers. He felt ill as he forced himself to his feet. He couldn’t leave yet, not until he was sure Lucius wasn’t lingering in the corridor, or until he was sure the man wouldn’t come back. He leaned over the cauldron, traces of the potentially deadly potion stuck to the edges of the pot.  His eyes seemed suddenly mesmerized by the shiny liquid as the temptation to test its effects etched at his soul.

He traced his finger over the bottom of the cauldron, collecting a clump of the captivating dark liquid on the tip of his index finger. Maybe he should just lick it, cease what remained of his miserable life. Only, now he had no guarantee the potion would kill him, his luck it would only make him terribly ill, as if he didn’t feel sick enough after that mouthful of Lucius. The mere thought was enough to trigger convulsions in the pit of his stomach. He wiped his finger on the side of the cauldron as a wave of nausea consumed him.

He stumbled from the classroom, searching desperately for a bathroom before finally finding one.

He pushed open a cubicle door before collapsing to his knees. His stomach wrenched as he clutched the side of the bowl. It had been a long time since he had felt this terrible. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for how dark this story is going, I didn't actually intend for it to be this bad.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoy!

_26 th May 1972_

_I snuck into the restricted section of the library this evening. The whole incident with Lucius got me curious as to what other kinds of potions can be brewed outside of mainstream lessons. I discovered a few of interest, one of which I have started brewing. The hardest part was finding a place to do it without anyone finding it and asking questions. I cannot afford to get caught, not with this one at least. I need this one more than any other, I need reassurance that should life here grow so bad, that there is always a way out. This one will be kept in my back drawer, should the need arise. It is supposed to work much like the poison cyanide in the muggle world. One day I intend to find out for sure._

 

 

Harry leaned back in his seat, he couldn’t believe the words he had just read but should he really be that surprised? Snape had endured a torturous existence, one that held no promise of getting better. Why should he stick around? So the Gods have someone to torture?

No.

Snape would refuse to settle for such an existence. Harry closed his eyes as he attempted to imagine what he would have done, should he have been placed in Snape’s shoes. His own uncle could be beyond cruel at times, but he could never imagine him doing such unspeakable things. The young wizard sighed as he closed the diary. If he was honest with himself, he couldn’t blame Snape for feeling the way he did, to do so would only prove hypocritical. There have been enough events in his own life that have pushed him very close to the edge, though he would never admit it to anyone. Perhaps the only thing that kept him going at times was this sense of duty that dangled over his head like a damn wrecking ball. Every year seemed harder than the last, as if his previous accomplishments all amounted to nothing in the end, only lining him up for a challenge more misguided than the last. He craved the day the Dark Lord would be avenged, taken out for good, yet it couldn’t help but fill him with dread. It seemed at times his sole existence was to rid the world of Voldemort, everyone was counting on him. He couldn’t possibly let them down, even though at times he wished the Dark Lord would just finish what he started and end his life.

 

 

_13 th June 1972_

_The charms professor was admitted to hospital last night. The cause? Poison apparently. I cannot shake this sense of guilt that has consumed my heart. I should never have brewed that potion, the doctors were saying the professor was lucky to come out of it alive. But how did the potion even reach him? Perhaps Lucius administered it himself, on behalf of the Dark Lord? But why would the Dark Lord want him dead? These answers allude me, though I suspect they doesn’t allude Professor Dumbledore. I’m starting to think twice about blindly following the Dark Lord, though I suspect it’s too late to back out now. It seems that such is the fate of a Slytherin. Speaking of which, I need to find a better place to hide this journal, I would be dead should anyone discover it._

 

*~*~*

 

Harry stumbled up the stairs of Gryffindor Tower before collapsing on his bed. He closed his eyes as the evening sunlight assaulted his room. He was the only one in the dormitory, a rare occurrence, one he had every intention of taking advantage of. He laid there, allowing the radiance of the sun to soak in through his flesh, warming him to his bones.

It had been a long time since he had felt this relaxed.

A call beckoned him, summoning him from his thoughts.

It sounded familiar.

Was that Hedwig?

Harry turned to face the origin of the noise, only to discover an owl standing on the window sill. It was immersed in black feathers, in fact, everything about it was black, its feet, its beak, even its eyes. If he didn’t know better, he would have found the sight before him to be truly menacing.

He rose from the comfort of his bed before approaching the well cared for bird with caution.

Within its beak it held what appeared to be an envelope. Harry leaned forward, extending his arm in an effort to get the bird to hand over the letter.

Who could this owl have belonged to?  

The young wizard wrapped his fingers around the edge of the envelope as he prepared to pry it from the owls beak. He expected resistance from the bird but received none.

Harry surveyed the delicate handwriting, it almost looked as though a girl had written it. He turned it over before gently prying it open.

 

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_I have a pot of tea brewing in my dungeon, perhaps you would care to join me this evening?_

_Yours Sincerely,_

_SS_

 

Harry returned his attention to the bird before him. He could hardly believe he was being invited to have tea with the professor he once despised. How his opinions of everything had changed.

 

*~*~*

 

Harry wished once more that he could talk to Snape about the diary, his heart yearned to break through the man’s barrier, to get to the soul, to the part of him that was destined to remain forever broken.

And yet here he was, standing before the wooden door to Snape’s chambers once more. He raised his hand in preparation to knock, only there was no need. The door clicked open, almost as if of its own accord.

 “Come in Mr Potter, have a seat, I will be with you shortly.” Snape called out from somewhere deep inside his chambers.

“Thank you.” Harry nodded, despite the fact no one was around to witness it. He proceeded to enter the room before choosing to occupy the same seat he sat in last time.

“It’s nice of you to join me Potter.” Snape’s voice grew louder as he carried a tray adorned with teacups and a pot into the sitting area. He wasted no time pouring the warm liquid into a tea cup before presenting it to Harry.

“Thank you.” The young wizard smiled as he accepted the tea in his fingers.

“Tell me Mr Potter, are you still intending to become an Auror when you leave Hogwarts?” Snape drawled as he poured his own cup of tea.

“I haven’t thought much about that, if I could be honest.”    

“Your future is important Harry.” Snape stated, collecting his teacup delicately between his thumb and index finger before raising it to his lips.

“If I have one.” The younger wizard muttered, not meaning for the negative words to leave the confines of his mind.

“You do have a future Harry, a very promising one. You mustn’t let the impending events brought about by the Dark Lord discourage you.”

Harry leaned back in his chair, he knew Snape was right but it was difficult to believe. Then again, the man had had connections to the Dark Lord for years, he would know him better than anyone.

“Was it always your dream to become a professor at Hogwarts?” Harry diverted the course of the conversation, he never did like talking about himself.

Snape took a sip of his tea before placing the cup gently down onto its saucer.

“No.” Snape finally murmured.

The answer had taken Harry aback, he had anticipated a ‘yes’ for sure.

“Then what was your dream?”

“To tell you the truth Harry, I didn’t exactly have one. I was always jealous of the other students who knew what they wanted to be right from day one. To tell you the truth, I would have been happy just living in a cabin far off in the woods, away from everyone.”

“I know what you mean.” The younger wizard sighed before averting his attention to the floor.

“I guess we have to take what we are given.” 


	13. Chapter 13

“Are you looking forward to christmas?” It was a stupid question and Harry realised it as soon as it left his lips.

“It’s just another Christmas.” Snape sighed as he leant back in his seat, deliberately avoiding the gaze of his student. Christmas had always signified a time of great stress for him. It was a fact that could scarcely be avoided, yet one he hated admitting to.

“Yeah I know what you mean.” Harry nodded slightly before gazing down at the floor.

“Where are you going for the holidays? The Weasleys I suppose?”

“Probably, though I haven’t much thought about it. Anywhere is better than staying with the Dursleys.”

Snape couldn’t resist the smirk that consumed his lips. Apparently knowing all too well the family's less than desirable personalities.

“Petunia was always a spoilt brat, I doubt anything has changed. The complete opposite to Lily of course. It is difficult to believe they were part of the same family.” He stated bluntly as he gazed into the murky depths of his tea, as if doing so would allow him to discover something he had long forgotten.

Harry sat upright, surprised at the ferocity of the professor’s words. He always had such an eloquent way with his words, yet this proved to be the exception to that rule.

Of course.

He had known his mother, so it was only inevitable that he would also know her sister.

“You know my aunt?”

“Unfortunately. I can’t begin to imagine what it must have been like growing up under her reign of terror. Not to mention that fat troll of a man she decided to marry.”

Harry couldn’t resist a chuckle as he leaned toward the professor.

“Is there anyone you do like?” A smirk played about his lips, giving away the fact that he anticipated the answer would be no.

Snape glanced up from his tea before locking eyes with the young wizard before him.

“You.”

It wasn’t the answer Harry expected as he sat there seemingly stunned. So Snape had been serious when he had kissed him that time?

“Why?” The young wizard seemed confused by the professor’s words.

“Do you really need to ask Harry?” Snape’s voice adopted a softer tone, as if allowing a more vulnerable version of himself to manifest.

“What would you see in me? I’m just… Harry. While you’re the best potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher Hogwarts has seen these many years.”

“Do you really think that highly of me? Because there's some things about me... and I really don't think you should.”

“I really do.” Harry closed his eyes, he didn’t even need to try to add sincerity to his words, they reeked of it.

Snape placed his teacup down before rising to his feet. He strolled around the coffee table before occupying the seat next to Harry. He raised his hand, soon resting it on Harry’s chin before drawing the boy’s face in towards his own.

“It’s almost curfew, but allow me this one kiss.”

“Of course.” Harry felt his care for anything else slip away as he leaned towards the professor. Warm lips embraced his as he felt himself lost in the world that was Severus Snape.

 

 

*~*~*

 

 

_17th June 1972_

_Lucius asked me what I am doing at the end of the school year. Only, I didn’t know how to respond, I didn’t exactly want to say that I didn’t know, even if it was the truth. I can’t afford to leave the door wide open for him. God only knows what he has in mind. I’ll likely spend the entire break brewing potions, serving his every whim and forced into doing unspeakable acts. I need to go somewhere else, but where? I don’t exactly have any friends. It is a fact that continues to frustrate me, yet I feel powerless to do anything about it. I feel like such a freak. I hate it, I’m never able to escape myself. I only have that grace period of when people first meet me to make a good impression before they start seeing the freak and distancing them self from me._

_I can’t stand it._

_Lucius wants me to join him in the Forbidden Forest on the 23 rd June, I think it goes without saying that I have a terrible feeling about this. He wants me to help him source centaur blood for the Dark Lord. I have no idea what he could possibly be wanting this for but, perhaps a bit of research in the Restricted section of the library will reveal what he has in mind. _

 

 

“Harry!” Hermione didn’t bother to hide the frustration in her voice as she tried yet again to summon the attention of her somewhat withdrawn best friend.

“Huh?” Harry glanced up from his potions book as he lay on his bed.

“We are off to Hogsmeade, are you coming or not?”

“I’ll stay here.”

“Come now Harry, all you do these days is poke your head in that damn book.”

 “She’s just getting upset because your better than her at potions these days.” Ron chuckled, the wind was soon knocked out of him as Hermione slammed him ‘playfully’ in the stomach.

“I’ll go another time, I promise.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, knowing there was zero truth in the boy’s words.

“I’ll bring you something back.” Ron offered his friend a smile as he tried to ignore the disapproving gaze he was receiving from Hermione.

“Thanks Ron, have fun.”

Harry watched as the two disappeared from view, along with what seemed like the rest of the school. He was delighted at the opportunity to be alone as he withdrew his wand from the nightstand.

He trailed it along the next entry date. It was time to experience this diary first hand once more.

 

 

23rd June 1972

 

The grass covered hillside was familiar, even all these years ago as he followed Snape down the steep slope towards the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid sat on the steps leading up to his front door, filling metal pales next to him with what appeared to be snail shells. A huge smile hijacked Harry’s lips, the giant had hardly changed.

“Why hello there Severus.” Hagrid smiled down at the boy, as he dug a snail from within its shell, its slime clung desperately to the shell before finally being severed and tossed it into the pale.

“Hello Hagrid.” The young Slytherin returned the greeting but his eyes refused to look up from the metal bucket. Part of him was dying to ask what the snail shells were for, the other deciding against it.

“Where are you off to at this time of evening? Come over here, have a seat.” Hagrid offered as he shuffled over on the stairs.

 Snape nodded before obliging the grounds keepers request. His eyes were marred with fear as they darted towards the Forbidden Forest.

“Don’t worry, the monsters wont come onto the Hogwarts grounds.”

Snape nodded, only it wasn’t the monsters he was afraid of. He couldn’t sit here talking to Hagrid when Malfoy was waiting for him in the forest.

“You must be looking forward to the years end?”

“Not particularly.”

“Aww why is that? You’ll get to go home and see you family.”

Snape didn’t appear to know what to say as his eyes remained fixated to the metal pales.  

“I’m sure they must be missing you.”

“My family isn’t much like other people families.”

“I see, well, mine aren’t much either now.” Hagrid chuckled heartily before glancing towards his front door.

“Why don’t you come inside now. I’ll put a nice cup a tea on the boil.”

Snape nodded, watching as the giant rose to his feet before following him inside. He would just have to accept the repercussions from Lucius later, if it didn’t cost him his life this time.

“I don’t want to trouble you.” Snape kept his eyes locked on the floor, looking for all the world like a punished puppy.

“It’s no trouble, I was gonna make one for myself anyways.” The giant smiled as he turned around to put a copper kettle onto the fire.

Snape took a seat at the enormous table as his eyes explored the chaotic masterpiece that was Hagrid’s hut.

“It won’t be long now.” Hagrid nodded in the direction of the fire before sitting down across from the young student.

“How are your studies going? I hear your becoming quite the potions expert.”

A faint inkling of a smile appeared on Snape’s lips.

“Thanks.” The young wizard finally raked up the nerve to look the giant in the eye.

Harry stood at the doorway, bewilderment had long consumed his eyes. He had no idea Hagrid and Snape had been friends.

His heart flinched slightly as the memory around him faded away before reforming. Only, this time he wasn’t standing in the safety of Hagrid’s hut, he was in what appeared to be an abandoned wing of the castle.  

“What were you doing talking to that great oaf?” Lucius grabbed Snape by the wrist, spinning him around before pinning him to the nearest wall.

“Who?”

“What do you mean ‘who’? That filthy groundskeeper, that’s who!” The blonde spat, it had been a long time since Severus had seen the man this mad.

"I specifically told you to meet me in the Forbidden Forest and you couldn't even do that! One simple instruction!" Lucius spat, prodding the younger wizard accusingly in the chest with his index finger.

“I’ll deal with you later.” The older wizard finally growled as he gave Severus an anything but gentle shove against the stone wall before strutting away from him.


	14. Chapter 14

Harry watched in amazement as the memory around him dissipated into a murky mess, as though he were viewing the scene through a veil of water. It soon disappeared entirely before fragments began to forge together to form a new image.

This time he stood once more in a room that had now become painfully familiar. 

The Slytherin dungeon. 

Shadows painted the walls as his eyes searched the dimly lit room. He knew what he was after and roughly where to find it as he stepped towards Snape’s bed. His eyes ran up and down the emass of sheets and bedspread, only to discover the the bed was in fact empty. The faint echo of footsteps greeted his ears, he knew they were far away in the distance but it would only be a matter of time before they would soon be upon him. He instinctively ducked for cover, falling to his knees next to the young Slytherin’s bed. Only then remembering he was but a mere witness to this boy’s nightmarish memories. 

A dark shadow soon appeared in the doorway, Harry didn’t need to look twice to instantly recognize the revolting form.

Why was he here again? 

Harry watched silently as Lucius Malfoy strode towards Snape’s bedside without the slightest hesitation. The young wizard’s eyes ran over the surface of the bed, wondering what exactly it was Lucius was expecting to find. Surely he must have been able to tell that Snape wasn’t in his bed from the doorway. 

Yet here he was.

Harry’s eyes sunk lower until they rested on a trunk under the young Slytherin’s bed. Snape’s small form was cowering behind it as he lay huddled in a ball under his bed. It seemed every inch of his body was shaking as his eyes remained fixated on the pair of threatening legs that hovered around his bed. 

Harry was sure he could hear the boy’s heart pounding in his chest, even from where he was. Or perhaps that was his own heart? Either way it didn’t matter, the end result would soon become apparent. 

Harry sunk his teeth into his lips as Lucius reached the bundle of blankets that lay on the empty mattress. He gripped the edge with the tip of his fingers, as if the fabric were contaminated with filth. He made no effort to disguise his repulsion as he whisked the material toward the foot of the bed. He allowed the blankets to fall from his fingers before falling into a heap. He sneered before turning on his heel. It was apparent he didn’t wish to waste any further time trying to hunt down the young Slytherin yet the frustration lingered in his eyes. 

Snape was being hunted down like some kind of wild animal, yet as long as he remained out of Lucius’s line of sight he would survive. 

Harry watched as the blonde wizard stormed from the dormitory, soon fading from view. He turned to Snape who had now closed his eyes, apparently believing himself to be, for the moment at least, safe.

 

~*~*~

 

Harry sat at the back of potions class, watching as Snape’s eyes drilled holes in Neville’s form. The boy was fumbling to remove the aged lid of what he presumed were lacewing flies. Snape made no effort to disguise the expectation that a dire array of events were soon to unfold. Harry had long completed today’s set potion as he leaned his back against a classroom wall. 

A smile danced lightly on his lips as his eyes took in the creases maring the man’s face, etching their way deeper with each passing year. His deep brown eyes reflected every ounce of frustration that was inevitably directed at Neville Longbottom. It was a sight that once filled him with both anger and fear, they were features he once believed were repulsive, yet now he only saw only a deep sense of caring and longing. To him, they were once lines of adversity, fear, the ominous reminder that a series of less than desirable events were soon to unfold. Yet now all those negative associations seemed to have dissipated, replaced in full by a trusted wisdom. One he had come to rely heavily on.

It seemed as though his new found appreciation for this man could not be quantified. 

Yet Harry now knew that behind those brooding, penetrating eyes he once feared, stood a man he had come to respect.

No.

It was more than that.

Was he really falling for this man? 

Harry darted his eyes to the floor. It was a fact he could no longer deny to himself. Yet he knew Snape felt it too. But was it wise to pursue this? He was a teacher after all. In Spite of this, it felt as if Snape was now the very air that he breathed. 

They were bound by the stars as it were. A fate destined to unfold no matter how much resistance was offered. Not that Harry had any desire to put up such resistance. 

It seemed that one could no longer live without the other.

  
  


~*~*~

 

_ 25 June 1972 _

 

_ Exams are quickly approaching but I don’t feel prepared at all. It doesn’t help that I feel compelled to sleep under my bed instead of in it. Lucius is planning something against me, I just know it and the easiest way for him to get to me is in my sleep. Like he did that time he forced me to brew that horrendous poison for him.  _

_ I can’t afford to let him find me. I only have to hold out for a little longer and the year will be at its end.  _

_Perhaps tonight I will sneak out, pay Hagrid another visit. Though I will have to be careful, should Lucius catch me, I would be guaranteed to meet my death._


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my story! Sorry its been 3 months since my last update...   
> -_-  
> I'm hopeless, I know!   
> I hope you enjoy :)

Harry knew it was risky, yet he couldn’t stop himself. The diary had entranced him, it was as though it had molded itself to become part of his heart. It was now inseparable. The link that bound Snape’s heart with his own, yet it was a key the other had no idea he was in possession of.

Harry would prefer it remained that way.

He was the first to arrive at potions class as he took his familiar seat at the back of the room. The young wizard rested his heavy bag on his lap before withdrawing the sacred item. His eyes instinctively glanced around the room, as though afraid of being caught. But how would anyone ever know? To anyone around him, it would simply seem that he was reading a potions book, albeit a somewhat dated one. He slid the book under his desk but refused to take his eyes off of it as his fellow students began to pour in. He knew he was on borrowed time as he nervously awaited the arrival of his friends, or rather the interrogation that was guaranteed to ensue. It was no secret that he had been distant from the two as of late but he felt adrift in a world that seemed so foreign, yet at the same time, so much closer to home than he’d ever known.

 

~*~*~

 

This time he felt like was on the outside looking in, or perhaps the negative to everyone else’s positive as he watched the world in reverse. Students were slow to arrive but they were sure quick to leave. Even Hermione and Ron had left without a word, though in this particular instance he wasn’t complaining. It was the first potions class in a long while with no practical element as he gazed back down at the pages before him.

“Harry?” Snape began, as though unsure exactly what it was he was asking of the boy.

A sudden gasp escaped the young wizard’s lips as he looked up from the engraved parchment before him. He seemed for a moment unaware of his surroundings, lost in a cascade of thought before aligning his gaze to meet the professor’s.

They were alone now, the chaos of days lessons were now a distant memory. Soon to be overwritten by the enticement of a great feast. The young wizard felt the heat of the evening sun as it faded through the glass window.

“I wanted to stay back and,” Harry began before stalling, his lips hesitating as he darted his gaze to the floor.

“And what?” Snape’s eyes narrowed as he drew away from his desk as it sat there imposingly, severing his portion of the classroom from that of his students.

A silence fell over the two as the professor paced slow, almost delicate steps towards the young wizard. It was as though Harry were a rare bird and if he were to approach too quickly, it might just fly away.

“Spend time with you.” Harry mumbled, as though hoping the professor wouldn’t hear his words, but suspecting otherwise.

Snape’s lips parted slightly, it was an act of instinct. He never thought for any moment in his life, that anyone would elect to spend time with him. Especially not someone who was young, handsome and whose life yielded so much untapped potential.

No.

Harry deserved better than to be bound and chained to his miserable being forever. If you love something, you must set it free.

Snape faltered, an act he had failed to disguise to the outside world.

Did he just imply to himself that he loved Harry?

“What is it?” The young wizard stepped forward, as though preparing to catch Snape in the event he should fall.

“Surely you must have more pertinent things to occupy your time with.” The professor quickly gathered himself, as though doing so would hide the vulnerability he very nearly exposed.

“No. Actually, I don’t.” Harry’s gaze instinctively rose, before forcing itself to lock with the older wizard’s. He knew the professor was liable to not believe him as he used his eyes to reinforce his words.

“I can’t imagine that’s true.” Snape murmured, though the expression in his eyes alluded to the opposite.

Harry offered the man a simple smile, as though realising no words would ever be enough to convince the professor that he wanted him. The essence of a smile threatened the corner of the professor’s lips as he stood before him. It was a smile that had seemed so foreign, unfamiliar, yet far from unwelcome.  

Snape raised his wand before flicking it effortlessly at the wooden classroom door. It was an act conducted through instinct, as though not much thought had gone into it.

No. But of course it hadn’t.

His focus was elsewhere.

Or, to be more precise, on the boy before him.

Harry turned around in his seat to face the professor, unable to resist the chemical attraction as it consumed every fibre of his being. His eyelids grew heavy as Snape leaned forward, his soft breath brushing over Harry’s young, soft skin.

“W-what are you doing?” Harry’s voice hitched as his lips struggled to formulate the words he was so desperately searching for.

“Something I have wanted to do for a very long time.” Snape whispered as he allowed his body to collapse beneath him. He barely seemed to feel the impact as his knees collided with the coarse floor.

Harry felt his lips part, but no more words made the passage between them. The following events began to unfold within his mind, soon becoming blatantly apparent as Snape rested his fingers on the young wizard’s knees.

The Slytherin knew now that there was no going back. This was it, this was the moment that would change the nature of their relationship. They were soon to cross a line that could never be uncrossed. Yet, despite this, he had never been so sure of anything in his entire life.

“You don’t have to do this.” Harry murmured as he felt Snape’s fingers begin to pry his knees apart, though he made no attempt to stop him. The young wizard’s eyes drew too heavy to resist as the professor nestled his head against his groin.

Harry knew he shouldn’t be doing this, every fiber of his being told him so. Yet, despite this, he was powerless to resist as Snape undid his trousers with same precision that followed through into every aspect of his life. He withdrew Harry’s willing member before drawing it his lips without hesitation. Harry gasped as a tight, wet warmth engulfed him. The young wizard felt himself lose control as waves of pleasure began to course out of his groin before radiating through his abdomen. He had never experienced a sensation as captivating and entrancing. His fingers traced through the professor’s hair, as though that had a mind of their own as they lingered before drawing the man’s head closer still.

He craved more, no amount of Severus Snape was enough.

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading this and sorry for all the mistakes!

Snape leaned back in his favourite chair. There were seldom pleasures he appreciated more than being surrounded by his vast expanse of books. Each one collected over meticulous events in his life, each one representing a triumph, each one reminding him implicitly of his worth, each one cherished beyond measure.

His eyes drifted before falling upon a glass, it’s depths engulfed by a circular ice cube as it sat almost submerged entirely by amber liquid. The fire whiskey was no stranger to him. He dared say it had become too much of a companion over time. He pondered as it sat resting unsuspectingly upon the coffee table next him. He watched it carefully, as though deciding whether the drink he would ordinarily reach for without hesitation, was in fact what he truly desired. A sigh escaped his lips as he didn’t have to reach far to uncover the answer he was searching for.

His fingers brushed gently over his lips, as if doing so would reawaken the living memory that was now his forever. A memory centred entirely around Harry. He closed his eyes, wanting desperately to savour the taste of the boy who lived on his lips. Well, perhaps that’s who he was to the rest of the world, but to him, Harry was more than that. He was learning about the beautiful dark haired wizard in a way no one else had.

In an instant his mind was back in the classroom, back to the moment he had fallen to his knees before the majestic young wizard. It was a moment in time he prayed would never cease, one he wished with all his heart would be savoured beyond the limits of time, space and reality. All those aspects that so encapsulated the world, strangling it. But alas, nothing lasts forever. It was a fact he knew all too painfully well.

His life was on borrowed time. Everyone’s was.

 

*~*~*

 

Harry sat on the rough stone surface as it offered him a less than comfortable place to sit as he gazed out of his dormitory window. The landscape that had seemed only too familiar during the day was now alive with dark shadows, creating a scenescape that seemed more that of a foreign world. Or perhaps the strange new sensation lay solely in his head, and in the back of what had now become his favourite classroom.

He never would have imagined how Snape’s tongue could have held his body captive, as if acting off of its own accord. He had felt embarrassment and shame course through his system, yet all the while drowned out by an ever increasing desire for more. Harry closed his eyes, allowing the memory to seize control of his mind as he felt the pressure in his groin begin to become unignorable. He couldn’t dare let his friends find out about this as he slid his finger’s below the waistband of his pajamas. It was an odd occurrence to have the dormitory to himself at this time of night, one he knew he had to take full advantage of. His friends, however close they were, would never understand. Perhaps if it were Remus, or perhaps even Sirius they may, but Severus Snape?

No way.

Harry felt waves of pleasure begin to grow stronger and stronger as his groin tightened in anticipation for an all too familiar sensation. Only for the first time he felt odd doing this by himself. Something was missing and he knew all too well what.

Harry gasped involuntarily as waves of orgasm consumed his body before seizing his mind along with it. For a moment he had forgotten where he was, his surroundings, the fact that his fellow Gryffindors were destined to return soon, yet he didn’t care. All he wanted was one Severus Snape.

Harry leaned back against the cold stone window sill, his eyes instinctively turning back toward the potions book. One day he will ask Snape about it, but for now it would be his little secret as he summoned the insightfully hidden piece of literature.

He had never been so curious about another human being as he pried open the book, scouring what were now pure pages to him as he searched for where he was up to.

 

_27 th June 1972_

_I am once again gazing up at the moon from the shores of the Great Lake. Lily warned me of leaving the castle perimeter after dark, sporting reasons that it was not safe. Though I can’t figure out why she cares that much about me. If she did, she wouldn’t spend such a painful amount of time with that damn James Potter._

_Yet I feel more at piece now than I ever have within those stone walls, or the walls of my house at Spinner’s End for that matter. Besides, the only person I am liable to run into all the way out here is Hagrid._

_My diary, you are my most prized and only confidant. I am sorry the only time I ever speak to you is when I find myself unable to cope and I need to tell someone or something to get it out of my own mind. I’m sorry that it has to be you diary._

_My mother wrote to me, she requested that I come home this coming holiday. For her I would do anything, even knowing full what the price of that will be._

_1 st July 1972_

_Here I am again, kneeling at the foot of my bed as though praying to a God that I know wont spare me. It is a waste of time and I know it, yet to relinquish all hope would be to relinquish my heart along with it. Tobias is gone now, but the revulsion that wells in the pit of stomach at the constant reminder that he is my father remains. No, I cannot refer to him as my father, to do so would only make the reality of what he just did to me all that much harder to bare. I thought I would spare you the less than savoury details of how he once again violated my body on this particular occasion, though I suspect you already know. I can hear them downstairs, I remain doubtful that my mother has any idea of what had transpired only moments earlier, surely if she had, she wouldn’t be allowing the same man to enter her body. Perhaps it’s better that it remains that way. I can only hope that the consummation of their bodies in the room beneath me doesn’t result in the creation of yet another unwanted member into this wretched family._

Harry carefully folded the book closed, as if afraid the precious item would fall to pieces in his fingers. He couldn’t allow that to happen, not to the one thing that drew Snape so close to his heart when the man was far away. Harry rose from the window sill before allowing his body to fall against his soft sheets, their fresh scent cascading through his nostrils. He couldn’t stand being without Snape by his side. If only he could sneak into his chambers, sleep next him, every aspect of his body entwined with his own. Raw flesh colliding with raw flesh. Oh how he wanted that, more than anything. He couldn’t ignore the tautness in his abdomen as he felt the fire in his groin come alive once more.


	17. Chapter 17

_2 nd July 1972_

_Dear life,_

_When you care to take a moment from your busy schedule of dangling before my eyes the kindest person I have ever known, only to sharply yank her away._

_When you are finished handing me ‘opportunities’ only to pull the rug out from under me for no other reason than the sheer delight of watching me fall._

_When you have finished making a point of giving everything to everyone right before my eyes only to turn to me with empty arms and laugh._

_Only then will desire you once more life._

_Only then._

_I hope you are satisfied,_

_Severus._

_3 rd July 1972_

_It’s a sad painful reality when one desires to return home, only to be reminded that no such place exists for them, but only for the people around them._

_Father is out again this evening, getting drunker than his body can handle. I dread his return above all else. I do not anticipate a visit from sleep tonight but I guarantee my body will ache once more, as it always does during these so called holidays._

_4 th July 1972_

_As suspected, my predictions about last night came true. I wish to spare you the details my friend but I will tell you the ordeal lasted three very long hours. My face pressed into the mattress as I struggled to gain breaths for my starving lungs. My body resisted his advances but it was all in vain. He defeats me every time. I don’t know why I bother to go against him. Maybe I’ll just let him have me from here on in. A docile partner to his vile acts, if only to spare my body from the brunt of his violence. His hungry eyes running over my naked flesh is perhaps the worst feeling of them all. It is the relative calm before the storm, the storm that tears my body apart from the inside out. A stark contrast to the man he appears to be to all those around him. A demon lives within him yet sometimes I feel as though I’m the only one to have witnessed it._

_I wish I hadn’t but there’s no going back to an age of innocence now, I am nothing more than a filthy worthless whore. Perhaps another life time will offer something more tangible._

_I close my eyes trying to forget last night, this lifetime and every ghastly rendition in between, but its no use. Even now as I sit here by the lake side, it still grants me no release. I wish I never had to return back there. I wish I could run away into a world entirely my own. Grasp the true taste of freedom, however fleeting it may be. Perhaps this what death feels like? The ultimate release from these ties that bind?_

_My eyes keep returning to the lake surface, they are unable to resist its determined draw as it entices me into its dark depths. How would it feel to starve my lungs once more? Perhaps the promise of it being the last time would make the sensation more bearable._

 

 

Harrys body clenched as his eyes ran across the final sentence. The words lingering on his lips like an awful after taste. He had read a myriad of awful recounted events through the eyes of Snape, yet why had this particular rendition affected him so badly? The young wizard felt powerless to move as the diary tumbled from his fingers, his body refusing to react as it bounced from his soft blankets before finally colliding with the floor. It lay at what now seemed to be its final resting place, sprawled about on the cold stone floor, as though enticing the world to view its sacred pages.

A terrible ache clutched at his heart, it felt as though the weight of a thousand potion bottles sat upon it, strangling it, suffocating it, ultimately severing it from the world he assumed he knew. He no longer felt like a mere witness to Snape’s suffering, it had become part of him also, the sensation was longer foreign. His heart had succumbed, these thoughts, these feelings, they were his now, merged to become one with a man he had once despised so greatly. He could close his eyes, a part of him desired desperately to savour the feelings. They were the bridge that forged the two together in their far off world, one that existed solely for them, by them.

 

~*~*~

 

Snape gazed out of his filth encrusted bedroom window, his eyes soon falling upon the familiar rows of identical rundown townhouses that comprised Spinner’s End. He had occupied this same house, this same room his entire life yet it never seemed to get any easier. Perhaps he existed solely for the sadistic amusement of life. His suffering was it’s only pleasure. The memories never disappeared, merely fading down the faucet of his despised youth, yet regurgitating, refusing to leave forever. Like a vulture loitering at his front door, he wanted nothing more than to slam the door in its face, shut it all out, yet it clung desperately his mind, as though one could no longer exist without the other. It was another painful realisation.  

The professor leaned against the chipping paint of his aging window sill, whose lifetime had far exceeded his own. He was always relieved when the school term had ended, now he could savour the few weeks he had to himself. It was a sensation he had long craved since the last time he was graced with the promise of isolation, yet this time it felt different. Something was missing. He desperately needed to think. Now there was only one thing he craved more than the isolation. It no longer seemed a relief to be alone. It now felt exactly that. Alone.

Harry felt so distant from him, yet the mere thought of him summoned a familiar tingling radiance to encapsulate his heart. The loneliness vanished as though it had never truly been there in the first place. In its place took the essence of the young wizard. He wanted him, needed him, craved him, yet still he felt undeserving of him. It was as though Harry were on a perpetual pedestal, one that lingered just painfully out of reach within his own mind. Perhaps that was in fact the only place it existed. The warm hue of orange lanterns gave life to the dreary nightfall as it consumed the evening sky once more.

Snape withdrew himself from the cold window, the soft drizzle outside turning as it began to pound against his tile roof. Yes. It would be a cosy evening indeed.   

 

~*~*~

 

Harry stood by his surprisingly unlocked and open bedroom door. He was now back at the Dursley’s. It was a reality he couldn’t ignore despite his best efforts, it was one he would rather escape yet it paled in comparison to the one he had lived so vividly through the pages of Snape’s diary. The reminiscent linger of television voices crept up the stairs, prompting the young wizard to return to his current predicament. Should he venture down the stairs or should he remain within the relative safety of his bedroom walls, was it perhaps loneliness that was driving him out? Even into the promise of what was guaranteed to be truly awful company?

He closed his eyes as though seriously considering the move. He clutched the diary that had sparsely spent time away from his grasp. He slid the book under his pillow, his eyes lingered upon the bed as though doubting the safety of his precious item. As it was, he could think of no other place that was safer.

Harry slid from his bedroom before descending the creaking staircase.

His eyes searched the room, yet seemed surprised at the absence of his cousin. Petunia sat scrunched up in the corner as her fingers worked delicately at a cross stitch. Vernon scrunched his face up as something on the tv clearly displeased him.

Harry half expected the obese man to yell at him, he seemed strangely passive tonight, as though he had barely registered Harry’s presence.

“Boy! Bring me some chocolate ice cream!” Vernon suddenly demanded, though the typical malice was absent from his voice. He seemed almost fatigued, too exhausted to be bothered with the nephew he had inherited.

“Where is Dudley?” Harry asked almost sheepishly, daring to gaze around the room before allowing his eyes to fall onto his uncle.

“Out” Vernon stated flatly, though the essence of agitation lingered in his voice.

Harry simply nodded, not expecting much more of an answer from the lazy man as he reclined further back in his sofa. The young wizard veered towards the freezer as though on instinct, one that had been built on a lifetime of perpetual demands. He wasted no time yanking the frozen dessert from the painful depths of the freezer, battling with bags of peas as they tumbled out, offering themselves in place of what he was truly after.

The young wizard then knelt down before whisking a bowl from the somewhat dated wooden cupboard. He then collected a silver spoon from the nearby drawer before going through the motions all too well. Although he didn’t know why he bothered, he may as well have given his uncle the entire tub as it was. He would be more than capable of consuming the lot in one sitting, of that he had no doubt.

“What’s taking so long boy?!” Harry was torn back to his reality at the cold beckoning of his unaffectionate relative.

“Sorry uncle Vernon.” The dark haired wizard lowered his head slightly before collecting the now full bowl in his fingers. He proceeded to carry the vulnerable ice cream to its untimely death before eyeing up the stairs once more. Perhaps he should just go to bed. If it weren’t raining outside he would have gone to the park. Perhaps tomorrow. The young wizard sighed audibly before dragging his body up each step, still unsure if this little venture had been truly worth it.

 

~*~*~

 

Harry sighed as he allowed his head to rest against the cold, damp chain that did it’s best to support the swing he was currently occupying. He welcomed the overwhelming sense of relief as it severed the stranglehold on his lungs. The freedom of being away from his childhood home was far too enticing. He still had two weeks before he would be able to return to Hogwarts. It was two weeks too long as his fingers clutched at the potions book that rested precariously in his lap. He seldom went anywhere these days without it. It was his only link to the man who had come to mean everything to him.

The playground stood deserted, a fact that proved only to please Harry in that moment as he pried open the familiar pages once more.

“What are you reading? Fairy tales is it?” Harry winced at the voice, he didn’t need to look up to recognise the patronising echo that resembled little more that a taunting cat call. The young wizard gritted his teeth in agitation as he swiftly slammed the sacred diary closed.

“What do you want Dudley?” Harry muttered, more to distract the overweight boy while he pondered a safe location to store his precious book.

“I was just asking what you were reading.” Dudley scoffed, though he seemed delighted to get an adverse reaction out of his cousin, the provocation he had been hoping for. He traipsed closer, as though his actions were the prompt his goons had been waiting for. Harry felt himself surrounded as the gang swooped closer to him without hesitation.

“I didn’t know you could read.” Harry stated coldly, his words reminiscent of his encounter long ago with one Draco Malfoy. He couldn’t much stand the blonde, yet in that moment he felt strangely bonded with him. Despite this, he knew all too well that it was a mistake to allow those few words to spill so effortlessly from his lips, yet he felt so powerless to stop them. He would pay dearly for it and he knew it as a barrage of footsteps came for none other than him.

 

~*~*~

 

Snape pried yet another book from his bookshelf, though he already knew it would fail to satisfy him. He seemed incapable of settling into anything no matter what he tried. He tossed the book onto his coffee table before collecting a glass of fire whiskey in his fingers.

He was beginning to miss Hogwarts, a foreign sensation to say the least. Or perhaps a more accurate perception would be that he craved the chance encounters with a certain wizard who needed no introduction. The professor allowed his body to fall into his recliner as he closed his eyes.


	18. Chapter 18

Snape winced as a pang fluttered across his heart, his fingers barely managing to catch the book he had pried from his bookshelf as it tumbled from his grasp. The sensation was one he couldn’t ignore, it startled him as it threatened to delve below the surface but never quite seizing the ghoul to complete the action.

An image of Harry danced before his eyes as he struggled to reach for his recliner. He was losing sensation of the room, along with the entire world around him as he sunk his fingernails into the aging fabric of his chair. 

What on Earth was wrong with him?

He dragged himself along the side of his chair as he attempted line himself to fall into the safety it offered. 

Only he never quite made it. 

Snape winced as his knees collided with the hard wooden floors beneath him.

He leaned over his chair, clutching to the cushions as though his life depended upon it. 

Something was wrong, seriously wrong. He hadn’t felt like this since…

Snape paused, unable to follow that train of thought any further as it led into the dark recesses of his mind. It was a path he had barricaded himself from yet one he was all too painfully familiar with.

 

~*~*~

 

Harry felt the warm breeze dance over his face as he rocked back and forth on the creaking, rusted playground swing. To be away from the Dursley's was as close as he had come to heaven on this Earth. A relaxed smile lined his lips as he watched the evening sun linger barely above the horizon. 

He knew he would soon have to return as his lungs filled with oxygen before finally releasing it. He clutched his potions book tightly within his fingers as he contemplated delving once more into its depths. 

He had to savour this moment and the peaceful bliss it offered. He had to commit it to memory, so that when he was forced to leave here, he would be able to return within his mind. It would be the one place that offered him eternal salvation.

He closed his eyes as he continued to bask in what warmth that remained in the lingering sun. 

Though this wasn’t to last and Harry had long come to expect.

A sense of looming anguish rose in his chest, as though he were suddenly aware of an imminent danger approaching. He was a sitting duck, about to be shot at by an all too familiar adversary.

Harry’s eyes danced over his pocket, instinctively reaching for the wand that he already suspected remained under his pillow at the Dursley’s. 

Damn it.

Never mind, it hardly mattered now. He wasn’t allowed to use magic outside of Hogwarts and he was likely only to incur laughter and humiliation at the hands of his cousin’s entourage if he dared to pull it out in front of them anyway.  

The young wizard closed his eyes as he braced himself for what was sure to be an agonizing assault, if past experience was anything to go by. He barely had time to think about it as a force grasped his shirt before jerking him towards the ground. Harry grimaced as he collided with the ground, feeling powerless to stop his lungs from expelling the dust as it infiltrated his body without invitation.

“What’s wrong?” Dudley’s voice grew marginally softer, as though he were speaking to a child. He knelt down, only ceasing his actions when his eyes were in parallel with the young wizard’s. 

“Do you want your mummy?” Dudley chuckled, prompting his entourage to follow suit as he reached for the potions book that lay helplessly at his feet. 

“Don’t you dare touch that!” Harry spat as he instinctively lunged for the sacred artifact. His frustrations only grew as his actions were thwarted by strong arms as they engulfed his own. Harry knew he was out numbered yet he persisted despite one of Dudley's lackeys holding him firmly in place.

“Oh, your going to try and stop me are you?” Dudley chuckled as he grasped the book with his fingers, not bothering to brush off the dust that had accumulated over its covers.

“What’s so amazing about this here?” Dudley continued to mock as he pried open the aged pages before him.

“Put that down!” Harry spat, the echo of desperation seeping into his voice. Yet his reaction only seemed to encourage his cousin.

“And why should I listen to you?!” Dudley spat as he waved the book about in his fingers as though it held no intrinsic value. Harry gritted his teeth as he strived to break free of the agonizing hold that snuffled out his best efforts.

Harry braced himself, his entire body clenched in anticipation as Dudley’s fist made a b line straight for his face. He resisted the instinct to close his eyes, the desire to witness the events soon to unfold proved to win out over the necessity to shield his vision.

He was prepared for this, or so he thought. He was, after all, overdue for a beating from this gang he had come to resent. 

For a moment Harry lost all awareness of where he was as the side of his head collided with the dirt beneath him. He knew Dudley had struck him, yet this particular instance lacked the typical force behind it. He seemed for a moment disinterested, as though he had come across something far more intriguing.

Harry forced an eye open as he watched what exactly it was that his cousin was up to.  

“A diary? Is this yours?” Dudley chuckled as his sausage fingers roughly ran though clumps of pages before finally settling on one that took his fancy.

“Hahaha!” Harry’s cousin continued as he appeared to find something within the book amusing, yet his laughter seemed accentuated, exaggerated, as though trying to make something out of nothing. 

“What is it Dudley?” One of the gang members prompted, the agitation growing apparent in his voice.

It seemed to be the prompt Dudley had been fishing for as he curled his lips to speak.

“Sometimes I wonder what the point of it all is? I exist solely as something for life to fuck.” Dudley recited the words, the amusement apparent in his voice as the boys around him began to chuckle.

Harry's eyes diverted towards the ground. How could this be happening? The one person who possessed the sincerity of a kitchen knife. 

Why did it have to be him?

He would have preferred it be anyone else. 

Even Draco Malfoy.   

Harry’s cousin went silent for a moment as his eyes ran over several sentences. 

“What the fuck is this?” Dudley screwed up his face as he struggled to understand the words inscribed on the pages before him.

They weren’t Harry’s words but they may as well have been.

“I find myself dreading waking up to yet another morning, ashamed by the fact I hadn’t left this world forever during the night.” Dudley burst into laughter once more.

“Are you suicidal Harry? I’m sure we can help you with that.” Dudley’s words were followed by an eruption of further laughter.

“Wait until father sees this!” The obese boy chuckled as he squatted down next to Harry.

The young wizard’s desire finally surrendered as his instinct seized control. His eyelids slammed shut, not wanting to believe this world could be so cruel. Snape’s words had been so precious to him, as though the man had confided them to him alone.

Harry wasn't prepared for the next action, yet he should have been. He winced as he felt his cheek collide with the dirt once more before feeling a foot press into the back of his head, grinding him further into the ground. 

Great.

Harry winced as the pressure grew inside of his head, it felt as though his skull were about to crack as he squirmed to get out from underneath the hold.

It was no use.

“What’s wrong? This is what you wanted wasn’t it?” Dudley chuckled as he watched one of his friends assault his cousin.

“You’ll be with your parents soon.”

Harry gritted his teeth, the pressure was growing too much, he no longer cared about the dirt seeping into his mouth, or the cracking of his jaw.

Perhaps Dudley was right, perhaps in a few moments he would be dead.  

A flash of light echoed across Harry’s face as the pressure held against his body subsided. 

An eerie silence surrounded him, nothing more than the howling of wind greeted his ears as he struggled to see through the dirt caked against his sweating face.

What had happened?

“Where did that lightning come from?” One of the boys murmured, suddenly appearing frightened as he stood back from the rest. 

“Who the fuck are you?!” Dudley spat as his eyes located a man standing where the source of the light had emanated from.

Harry’s eyes searched the landscape, desperate to uncover the source of what had become a fortunate disturbance.

His eyes fell upon the author of the diary himself and the last person he expected to see.

Severus Snape.

But what was he doing here?

The young wizard had to blink twice to believe it, but there was no mistaking it.

Harry had never witnessed such a fire ignite within the man’s eyes. He had within his grasp his down turned wand, though he appeared to have every intention of using it.

“What do you think you are doing?” The professor scolded as he veered closer to the gang of teenage boys.

“What’s it to you?” Dudley spat, obviously trying to act tough in front of his friends yet his steps backward said otherwise.

“Who the hell are you?” Another boy yelled as he pushed his way in front of Dudley, seemingly unafraid of this impertinent stranger.

“That’s not really your concern now is it?” Snape’s eyes veered down at the boy, he had obviously faced enemies much worse than this mere child.

“Get off our turf.”

Snape scolded down at the boy, his expression undeterred as he rose his wand to his chest.

“Silence.” 

“What are you going to do with that tiny little stick.” The boy chuckled, prompting laughter from the gang, though the only one not laughing was Dudley. He of course knew far too well what the significance of that tiny little stick was. 

It took all of Snape’s patience and self control to refrain from calling upon his darkest spells, some of which he created himself, specifically for occasions such as this.

Though he had to remind himself that the repercussions were not worth it. For a Hogwarts teacher to attack muggles with such violent curses was sure to make the cover of the daily prophet. Dumbledore would only have so much sway in that instance and he would likely lose his job, the one position he had longed for for years and had finally achieved.

No.

It wasn’t worth it.

Snape locked his eyes with the most fearless, antagonizing muggle in the group as a small ball of light began to radiate from the tip of his wand.

“I think we should get out of here!” Dudley stammered as he shoved two if his friends out of the way before bolting from the playground.

“Hey! Dudley! Where are you going?!” One yelled after him before turning back to this mysterious stranger. 

He took a moment’s hesitation before deciding to trail after Harry’s cousin. 

“Hey! Where are you all going?!” The most obnoxious member growled as he watched his three friends disperse away from him. 

His confidence faded along with his back up as he decided it was best to follow the rest of the pack.

“This isn’t over!” He spat as he disappeared far from view. 

Snape allowed the ball of light to disperse before stepping towards the barely responsive boy amongst the dirt.

That was at least until something rather surprising caught his eye.      

The professor stopped dead in his tracks.

No.

Surely not.

Snape glanced down at diary he had chosen to relinquish all those years ago as it lay half buried in dry, dusty golden dirt. It was perhaps the last thing he expected to find within meters of Harry Potter. How long had the boy been in possession of it? 

Snape couldn’t stop his heart from racing as he prayed his thoughts were wrong. Had Harry been reading his heartfelt words since the start of the year? 

No.

But how?

Snape began to panic as his mind raced through every inevitable scenario that could have taken place until one presided above all others. 

The book must have found its way into the potions classroom cupboard and then into the hands of the chosen one. 

No.

That can’t be.

Denial gripped Snape’s heart and he knew he was only lying to himself if he believed that he hadn’t witnessed the object in the dirt.

Though, if that were the case, then why was Harry being so abnormally kind to him this year? Perhaps it only seemed that way inside of his mind. Maybe the boy who lived had actually always been pleasant towards him but he had been to pigheaded to see it? 

No.

This could be nothing but bad.

The words ingrained within each page, they were meant for no one but himself. The thought that someone else had bore witness to them, especially someone that meant as much to him as Harry did was too much for him to bare.

He hesitated, not wanting to touch the diary, its memories, what it represented and how it’s contents had defined him. But he knew leaving it there was also not an option.

Snape crouched down slowly before grasping what was once his oldest friend, confidant and saviour to his sanity. 

Perhaps it was now his turn to save it from the perils that beheld this world? It did harbour his essence after all.

He brushed the wayward dust from the books covers before standing and turning his attention to Harry. 

“How long have you had this?” Snape began, his voice absent the warmth Harry had grown accustomed to.

The young wizard drew himself to his knees, a trail of blood began making its way down his cheekbone before falling to the dirt.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, yet words refused to obey his lips.

Snape gazed down at the book once more before whisking his wand over it. 

It vanished within a moment, as though it had never existed.

Harry gasped, Snape had just robbed him of his most valued possession, yet it never truly belonged to Harry from the start. Would he ever see that book again?

It wasn’t likely and he knew it.

The professor gazed down at the boy, as though he had become a collection of puzzle pieces that he needed to figure out. 

“You won’t be needing that book any more.” Snape stated, his voice wavering ever so slightly as he knelt down next to the boy.

“But what about potions class?” Harry whimpered, though he couldn’t care less about potion’s class. Perhaps it was the only potential concern that seemed feasible to believe aside from the overbearing truth.  

Snape raised his eyebrow, for a moment he wondered if Harry had merely witnessed the pages lined with potion recipes and had missed the diary entirely.

No.

That couldn’t be it.

Harry’s eyes spoke of a deeper truth. A knowing truth. A sincerity that he had only witnessed in one other. 

The boy’s mother.

There was no mistaking it.

“You have me Harry.” Snape whispered as he wrapped his arm around Harry’s waist before drawing him to his feet.

“I-I’m okay.” Harry lied, his voice stuttering as he instinctively refused the help offered to him. He had been humiliated enough, he didn’t want Snape to see him like this.

“No Harry, you are not. You are coming back with me.”

“To Hogwarts?”

“No.” 


	19. Chapter 19

 Snape grasped his diary tightly in his fingers, he didn’t need to open it to know its contents, yet he still felt compelled to do so. He pulled back the cover, choosing to ignore the first half in favour of the middle.

 

_14 December 1975_

_It used to only be the odd day I felt like this, this low, to the point I actually find myself staring at my wrists, wondering where to cut? How deep to drive the blade? How long for to guarantee my death? I’m not afraid of the physical pain, just of failing at yet another thing. No. I can’t afford to fail, to give the whole of Hogwarts another reason to mock me. Maybe I should just cast the killing curse on myself, that was guaranteed to work, wouldn’t it be? Surely I couldn’t be first to want to try it..._

_These feelings were becoming far too regular these days, it used to just be confined to the holidays, to when I realised what goes on at home only alienates me further. I can’t tell anyone about it because then I will only become even more of a freak. Even less people will talk to me than do already. Yet struggling to keep the abnormal behaviour bottled up is proving harder still._

_It then started to seep in every mail day, when every student received treats from home, new broomsticks, chocolate or at the very least a letter. Me? Nothing. Not that I expected any one in my family would ever even think to do that, it would nice to be surprised out of myself for a change._

_N_ _o._

_Every mail day was as mundane as it had always been._

_Now it’s just every day that I feel like this._

 

Snape closed the diary once more as he ground his teeth into each other. It wasn’t working, he couldn’t prevent the well of tears from permeating from his eyes.

Even after all this time nothing had changed, his words still struck him as being as valid now as they were then. There were still days where he wished Voldemort would just raise his wand to him and be done with. Cast that infamous spell upon him until nothing mattered any more.

Caught between two worlds, yet belonging to none. He was working for Dumbledore, yet that didn’t stop the order from hating him. He hated Voldemort, and knew barely any of his followers truly trusted him, yet Voldemort seemed to.

He was more broken now than he even was then, only now he had had years to work at better disguising it.

He could still remember the time he was referring to as though it had just happened yesterday. Lucius Malfoy had gotten a part time job at the ministry of magic with his father. Lily and James were ranked the schools cutest couple. Slughorn had just rejected him from this years slug club because he couldn’t be sure of his intentions. Dumbledore was watching him like a hawk but he knew now why.

And finally, he, Severus Snape, was still the school’s A grade looser, who’s love life only consisted of getting fucked by those who should have cared about him.

What else has changed?

Nothing.

Snape tapped his wand against the diary, returning it to its original form as a potions book before making a place for it on his bookshelf. He slid it into the space, his slender fingers lingered on the book’s spine as his thoughts demanded more of him still. He wanted nothing more than to let the memories disappear forever into the abyss. The humiliation of being used by almost everyone with no regard for his well-being loitered without remorse. Perhaps he was never destined to matter to anyone? He sole creation was ordained for the sadistic amusement of others? Only a select few inherit the privilege of purpose.

Snape resisted the urge to sigh as his eyes trailed down the shelves of his ornate bookshelf before finally reaching the floor. He stood there, not knowing how to pull himself out of himself. He had done it so many times before, yet it never seemed to get any easier. How many times more would he have to do it? 

His eyes turned to the bedroom. Harry was asleep on his bed yet even that didn’t stop the feelings of worthlessness from seeping in. The boy was beautiful, so kind like his mother, so perfect. He had never noticed just how much so until he was tending to the wounds his own family had inflicted upon him. Maybe they have more in common than he realised?

In spite of this, Harry deserved better than to be tied to him for eternity. He deserved to live a life free from all this negativity he had grown so accustomed to. Perhaps Granger could offer him that? She was a loyal friend to him, and loyal friends seemed difficult to come by. The best part was he couldn’t even blame it on this day and age because it wasn’t limited to that, it had been like that always. Or perhaps he was the only one who struggled to find such a thing.

 

~*~*~

 

Harry pried open his eyes, he thought it had all been a dream, yet as his eyes ran over the ornate walls and unfamiliar furniture, he realised it wasn’t such. He was at what must have been Snape’s house. Was it his childhood home? The one he spoke of in his diary?

The young wizard propped himself up on his elbows, attempting to gain a better perspective of his surroundings. He could hear the crackling of a fire place in the distance, the echo of flames along the fading wallpaper with no inhibitions.

Where was Snape? The young wizard forced his body up further on the bed before suddenly being overcome by a sharp pain in his head. His fingers ran over its origin, yet there was no blood, no sign of any injury, only the lingering essence that there ever was one.

How could he allow himself to be ambushed by Dudley and his gang? He could see it play out in his mind, yet he just sat there on the swing as though this time would be any different.

But this time had been different.

Someone had come to his aid, someone cared enough to seek him out, to protect him, to make sure he was okay.

Snape had done all this. His loyalty unwavering and undeniable. 

Harry allowed his body fall back against the soft bed as he strained his mind to figure out how he got from the park to here.

Did he pass out?

Harry winced at the thought as he rubbed the invisible injury once more, choosing to ignore the shooting pains as they darted through his skull.

Maybe he should get up?

Harry pondered, yet his body refused to obey his preliminary instructions in favour of rest. He closed his eyes, only narrowly missing a cloaked figure as it approached his bedside.

Snape knelt down at the young wizard as he slept peacefully amongst his bed sheets.

Perhaps the pages of his old potions now told of an expired past? One that would no longer be his future.

 

   


End file.
